


Operation Ghost Leopard

by thewayshedreamed



Series: Operation Ghost Leopard (Lysaedion Spy AU) [1]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Double Agents, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Female Friendship, Lysaedion AU, Lysandra/Lorcan brotp, Mutual Pining, Other, POV Female Character, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Political Alliances, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Strong Female Characters, Unresolved Romantic Tension, spy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 72,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27021253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewayshedreamed/pseuds/thewayshedreamed
Summary: Lysandra is a secret agent, employed by Arobynn Hamel. Her latest mission requires that she engage with Aedion Ashryver at a political gala in order to distract him away from his cousin's protection. Lysandra isn't sure what Arobynn's motives are regarding Aelin, only that her role requires that she pull Aedion away by any means necessary.Much to her surprise, the Prince of Terrasen is charming and friendly, eager to dance and spend time by her side. Until Aedion reveals that he's on a mission of his own, and Lysandra finds herself confronted by Aelin's court with a lucrative job offer. The problem is that it requires that she provide intel on Arobynn, putting herself and her family at risk and challenging everything she thought she knew of her life.
Relationships: Aedion Ashryver/Lysandra, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien & Rowan Whitethorn, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Lysandra/Lorcan Salvaterre, Manon Blackbeak/Dorian Havilliard
Series: Operation Ghost Leopard (Lysaedion Spy AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178225
Comments: 74
Kudos: 70





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s) for strong language, sexual undertones, and sexual tension.

Lysandra turned her head over, fluffed the loose waves, and flipped them back over as she stood up. She adjusted her cleavage in her low-cut ballgown and pulled the fabric down her hips a little to make sure it was as smooth as possible. Exhaling a long breath, she righted her shoulders and walked from the bathroom to the gala ballroom.

Her gown was a beautiful, rich emerald green that hugged her curves and made her eyes sparkle in the low light of the room. She was attending said gala as part of her current mission, which required her to play the part she most resented. People often commented on her beauty, with her bright green eyes, dark brown hair, generous curves, and full lips. She was flattered by the compliments in her younger years, before she realized her beauty was slowly becoming her identity.

She grew exceedingly tired of the assumptions she so often encountered when meeting new people. She was treated as shallow, vapid, and for whatever reason, less intelligent than those around her. She was by no means ungrateful for her blessings; she knew there were many women who would kill for them. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help feeling underwhelmed by the assignments Arobynn tossed her way, wishing for a little more substance in her work.

She looked down toward her cleavage, making sure the microphone that was sewn into the neckline of her dress was intact and well-hidden. Tern had done a formidable job hiding it within the fabric, but she felt as though he’d felt the need to “adjust it” a few too many times tonight. She was grateful to be out of his company for the time being.

Lysandra scanned the room for her target. She straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and made her way over to a waiter holding a tray of champagne. She smiled to him sweetly as he handed her drink over, thanking him for serving her. She surveyed the room over the lip of her glass, praying to the gods that she would see that head of golden hair. The sooner she located him, the sooner she could start building her rapport with him, and the faster this night would move.

Aedion Ashryver was anything but an easy target. Not only was he nobility, but he had extensive experience in battle and security, requiring an especially clever agent to complete this mission. When Arobynn had briefed her (along with Tern and the others), he had instructed her quite firmly to complete this mission _by any means necessary_.

Historically, that had always included bringing men home, whether it be to serve as a companion for the evening or offer her body to them. Lysandra wouldn’t claim that the thought didn’t repulse her each and every time, but her work was not for the feint of heart. Besides, she owed an incredible debt to the man she worked for, and it would be some time before she felt entitled to any sort of opinions on the matter. The consequences of those opinions were too grave to consider.

She knew she was in this position to tempt the young prince away from his post, allowing the rest of the men to move in on Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. His reputation as the party prince and his willingness to sleep with most were no doubt the reasons Lysandra had been selected for this mission. If anyone was going to stand in the way, it would be Aedion, who loved his cousin so fiercely that he wouldn’t hesitate to employ any skill in his repertoire to ensure her safety.

Arobynn and his men needed as many barriers eliminated as possible in their quest for the princess; a ploy to ensure the royals knew of his reach and influence in the area. Additionally, it was no small secret that he carried great affection for Aelin, and he believed she owed it to him to entertain the potential of a relationship after all they had been through.

That thought alone made Lysandra want to punch him in the throat. The nerve. The entitlement. As if the princess were indeed property.

She huffed a breath, still scanning the massive room for Aedion. She meant to walk forward, hoping to make a loop about the room, before a deep voice interrupted her.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you, miss.”

Lysandra turned her head sharply and had to look up to peer into the face of her greeter. Her green eyes fell on ones of bright turquoise with a ring of gold; Ashryver eyes through and through. She scanned his face, observing how he had his golden hair swept into a low bun at the back of his head. If she truly had to complete this mission by any means necessary, she decided she could be much worse off than the beautiful man next to her.

She plastered her most dazzling smile on her face as she answered him. “I don’t believe you have,” she said, extending her hand to him. “Olivia.”

His mouth quirked up at one of the corners, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He took her hand in his, bowing slightly to place a chaste kiss to the back of it.

“Aedion. It’s lovely to meet you, Olivia.” He smiled, and she swore her heart skipped a beat. “Care to join me for a drink?”

“I would love that.”

——

About an hour later, they were each several drinks in, having settled at a table near the dance floor. Lysandra had just finished laughing at something Aedion had said moments before, and when she looked back to him, she felt like she wanted to pretend… pretend that she wasn’t an agent hired to sabotage the security of this party. That her participation didn’t effectively ruin any chance that she would ever get to have a genuine night like this with the young prince. He had been nothing but a gentleman the entire evening, and to top it off, he was charming and had a fantastic sense of humor… two things not common in the men she so often spent her time with. She was interrupted from her thoughts, once again, by that intoxicating voice.

“Olivia, would you dance with me?”

“Oh, I’m no dancer. But I appreciate the offer, Prince.”

He chuckled at her. “I told you to stop calling me that. It feels too proper. Please, call me Aedion.”

“Are your intentions with me improper, Aedion?” she asked. She didn’t know what had made her so bold so quickly, but she had a suspicion that it had to do with thoroughly enjoying his company.

She hoped she hadn’t crossed the line too quickly, but she was immediately comforted when he threw his head back and laughed.

“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”

Something in the words made her toes curl, and she had to shake her head slightly to refocus. He stood, holding his hand toward her.

“Seriously, let’s dance. I promise to lead, and I’ll even let you stand on my feet if you’re that bad off. Trust me.” The way he said the last two words made her stomach sink as if it were filled with lead. Guilt had never struck her on a mission before tonight.

He led her to the dance floor, lifting her hand in the air to spin her once, before gripping her waist with his other hand. She kept her one hand in his and rested the other on his shoulder. He guided her through a waltz, coaching her as needed. She found that he was an excellent teacher, and before long, they were gliding across the floor together.

“You’re a great dancer,” she said. She looked up into his face to find him already looking at her.

“Surprised?” he asked, taking that opportunity to pivot and spin them quickly a couple of times to the rhythm of the music before returning to their original steps.

She laughed, delighting in the way he led her so seamlessly across the dance floor. He wore a matching smile, and she found herself trying to commit it to memory.

“Honestly? A little. I didn’t exactly expect a former General to be so light on his feet.”

He gave her a sheepish smile, not missing a single step as he answered. “Ah. Well, neither the military, nor the war itself, saved me from the years of cotillion.” He ended with a grimace.

“You don’t seem too enthused about that,” she laughed. It was quickly drowned out but the popping of the speakers near the stage, startling her toward.

He steadier her, and she righted herself quickly. “Teenage Aedion was an absolute nightmare regarding cotillion, but my mother was relentless. All comes with the territory, I suppose.” He led them into another couple of swift turns, and as they did so, the damned speakers popped for a second time.

Lysandra jumped despite her effort not to, earning a low chuckle from Aedion. “It’s okay, Liv. Just noise interference.” Even so, he pulled her a little closer to him.

_Gods, he was so fucking nice._

Just as quickly as she had the thought, she felt inclined to take it back. His hand started to slide up her waist as they moved, dangerously close to the underside of her breast. She supposed he’d earned his reputation from somewhere, and she was about to experience it.

“What do you say you and me get out of here for a little while? I could use a break from the noise,” he purred.

_By any means necessary._

She held her breath, but he pulled his hand away slightly before he placed it on her ribs just below her collarbone, covering the neckline of her gown on that side of her body. He leaned his head close to her opposite ear, her breathing more and more shallow as he moved.

She cursed her heart for beating so intensely, knowing he could feel it due to the placement of his hand. She managed to keep her face somewhat neutral, not daring to look at him. She gave a brisk nod before he continued.

“Tern should have invested in better equipment. Your mic isn’t playing nice with the sound system, Lysandra.”

She stumbled slightly, but she corrected herself quickly, hoping no one noticed. He spoke again quickly.

“Give them the signal,” he instructed, as he brushed his lips over hers.

It took her a second to realize his meaning. Give them the signal that we’re going to find somewhere to _enjoy_ each other.

Understanding dawned on her then— he was playing into his known reputation, looking like the promiscuous prince who couldn’t keep from feeling her up on the dance floor, all the while covering her mic to shield his words from listening ears. Her anger washed over her upon her realization that he was absolutely capitalizing on this knowledge. He obviously knew she wasn’t at the gala for leisure, and he also knew who she worked for if he knew her name. For a man who had seemed every bit the gentleman tonight, she couldn’t believe he was taking advantage of this situation to have his way with her. And to instruct her so arrogantly to give the signal, confident in what he knew. It had her blood boiling in seconds.

Despite her growing anger, she obliged. She ran the lapels of his tuxedo jacket between her index and middle fingers before placing a kiss to his cheek and grabbing his hand. This communicated to Tern and the others what she had planned next, so at least she didn’t have to worry about their eyes on her for a while. If she didn’t return within thirty minutes, they would go looking for her, but that still gave her plenty of time to hand the prince his ass.

Once they emerged from the ballroom, Aedion shifted forward, pulling her hand-in-hand behind him. He walked briskly down the hall, scanning all around them for any witnesses. The coast looked clear for the most part. Lysandra wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing as it applied to her.

They approached a women’s private restroom, and he pulled her swiftly inside. He locked the door behind him, gripped her by the waist, and turned her so that her back was against it. His eyes roamed her body, paying particular attention the assets exposed by her low neckline and his higher vantage point. She was still bristling with anger, and it irritated her that she flushed under his gaze.

He ran his nose along her temple, across her cheek, and then up and down the side of her own. She lifted her chin, shoulders squared, unwilling to back down after his odd power move on the dance floor. He offered a sideways smile, and she hated that it made her heart flip all the same.

“We only have a few minutes, Liv,” he murmured.

_Liv? He already called me Lysandra._

“What are you waiting for?” she challenged.

He broke into a full grin at that, eyes glancing at her scarlet lips. His gaze darkened as it dropped past her mouth, landing on the neckline of her gown yet again. His hands came up, his calloused fingers running along it back and forth. She thought he aimed to tease her, but suddenly, he had gripped her gown on each side of her sternum and yanked. The gown ripped open down the middle, and any plans she had to seem collected vanished. She gaped at him, utterly speechless.

Rather than groping her chest, he rubbed the layers of fabric between his left thumb and fingers. Once he landed on what he was looking for, he fished her microphone out from between the layers, disposing of it in the sink and turning on the water. She watched as it danced under the stream, seeming as chaotic as her heartbeat and the thoughts running through her head.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered roughly.

He angled away from her as he shrugged off his jacket. He spoke, but his words weren’t meant for her.

“Come in, Whitethorn.”

A few seconds of silence.

“Have the wolves engaged the others?”

He was unbuttoning his white dress shirt. Once he got four of the buttons loose, he gripped it between his shoulders with one of his large hands and pulled it over his head.

“I’ll keep you posted on our location. Notify me once Salvaterre is in position.”

His attention turned to Lysandra again, keeping his gaze locked above her neck.

“Take off your dress and put this on,” he ordered, throwing his white shirt toward her.

“You’re not serious.”

“Look, I’ll turn around, but we don’t have a lot of time,” he said impatiently as he pulled his belt from their loops around his waist.

She did as he said, letting the ripped gown fall to the floor. She eased the massive shirt over her head and was enveloped in his scent. She didn’t hate it.

“It’s on. Now will you tell me what the fuck is going on?”

He shoved his belt toward her, and when she offered him a confused look in return, he elaborated.

“Don’t women do something with these to make a dress or something? Put it around your waist. I’ll roll up your sleeves.”

He worked around her efficiently, despite her frequent movements to wrap the belt around her. She pulled it tight, wrapping the excess around itself and tucking it under.

“You still haven’t told me anything, Aedion.”

He pulled the elastic from his hair, letting his long, golden locks fall to his shoulders. She couldn’t help but give him a once over. The fact that he was now in nothing but his slacks, a plain white v-neck stretched tightly across his shoulders, and his hair hanging freely was quite distracting, to say the least.

“I’m on a bit of a mission myself. The twins are working the room near your colleagues to serve as a distraction and to buy us some time. Being that they won’t look for us for another 20 minutes or so, we should be okay. But you’re not exactly easy to sneak out of an event in a tight green dress and looking… like you do,” he explained. He handed the elastic to her, prompting her to pull up her long locks.

“You were quite clever out there. With the mic and all that,” she deadpanned. “I should have known you were up to something.” She pulled her hair into a messy bun and regarded him as he shoved his bow tie into his tuxedo jacket.

“Last I checked, people didn’t earn high ranks in the military or high-profile security positions by looks alone,” he joked. He turned to look her over, running a hand through his hair.

“Gods, you couldn’t be plain if you tried,” he remarked under his breath.

She tried not to blush under his praise, but her body had already betrayed her. His eyes fell to her mouth, and she felt her body heat under his appreciative gaze yet again. He brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. She was holding her breath, but his next words brought her abruptly back to the present.

“Lick my thumb.”

She blinked up at him and pulled her head back slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”

He rolled his eyes, daring to look exasperated. “I’m going to wipe off your lipstick. We’re meant to be sneaking out after a quick romp in the bathroom.”

“Please don’t say romp. And, no.”

“Fine,” he said and made to move his thumb toward his own mouth. He was too close and his scent was all over her. She couldn’t think straight.

“Wait! Stop,” she gripped his hand and brought his thumb between her lips. She watched as his pupils dilated, but he shifted his focus to his task as if he was completely unaffected. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, then her top lip, and he spent a little additional time cleaning things up around her Cupid’s bow. She hated the heat that rushed through her at his touch.

He cocked his head as he finished, and she realized it must be because he was receiving some type of communication.

“10-4. We’re on our way,” he responded.

“Why should I go anywhere with you? They’re going to look for me. I can’t just leave. What the hell is this about?” The words poured from her, one statement after the next, all rapid fire. She almost mentioned that he was playing right into her own mission by leaving the princess vulnerable, but she knew it was unwise.

He scooped her gown from the floor and shoved it into the large trashcan in the bathroom.

“I need you to trust me, okay?” The earnestness in his expression broke her heart. “They can come looking for you. They won’t find you, and you’re officially under the protection of the royal family of Terrasen, anyway. They can’t hurt you.” He threw his vest and jacket over his arm, gripping her hand as he opened the door.

He flipped off the light, leading her down the dim hall near the ballroom. They slipped into one of the side doors, and he placed her between himself and the wall as they walked the perimeter of the gala. He walked quickly, his long legs making it nearly impossible for Lysandra to keep up with him without stumbling. She observed the twins holding court near her colleagues, and she dipped her head in the hopes that they wouldn’t see her. She hadn’t made the conscious decision to do so, and she realized then that she was more onboard with this exit than she’d been willing to admit. They approached the doors toward the front of the ballroom, and he shifted her in front of him so that her form would be blocked by his large frame from anyone inside the event.

They made it through the lobby in seconds, and he gripped her hand to guide her toward a large, black SUV. She skidded to a halt, feeling compelled to warn him of the threats to his cousin.

“They’ll look for Aelin,” she breathed.

He pulled her slightly to continue walking, speaking in a hushed tone. “The princess will be fine. We have to keep moving.”

Guilt poured through her, but she couldn’t bring herself to explain everything to him. She wouldn’t have the time, anyway. They approached the SUV, and he pulled the door open roughly, ushering her inside as quickly as she could move. He hauled himself inside after her, speaking lowly.

“Target secured. You may retreat.” She realized he was talking to the twins inside. A dark, intimidating man sat in the driver’s seat, and Lysandra assumed he must be “Salvaterre”. He pulled forward, easing them away from the building, but hitting the gas urgently once they turned onto the highway.

A large, tattooed hand reach from the seat behind them, making her jump in surprise. The hand gripped Aedion’s shoulder, giving it a slight shake. “Well done, brother,” he praised.

“Are one of you going to tell me what the hell is going on? Since Ashryver here seems unwilling to do so?” she demanded, impatience tickling her spine.

None of the men spoke, but she felt the smooth caress of breath over her ear. She turned, and a pair of turquoise eyes identical to Aedion’s locked with her own. The princess of Terrasen looked at her, her chin resting on her folded arms over the back of the seat.

“Evening, Lys. It’s been too long,” Aelin cooed.

“Aelin,” she said as a greeting. She didn’t have anything else to add.

“Maybe I could offer some insight,” she remarked, eyes scanning Lysandra’s face but never showing any signs of discomfort at the tension.

“And why would you be able to do that?” she seethed.

“I’m the one that asked them to find you.”


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for strong language and sexual undertones.

Lysandra groaned as she turned back around in her seat and looked at the ceiling of the SUV. If she was in this vehicle with the princess, she was in deep shit already, but considering that princess was Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, there was no telling of her fate.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately to order the events of the last 20 minutes in her head. She hated to have to ask Aelin to explain, but she knew there was no way she was going to untangle that web of schemes unassisted. She’d known her highness long enough to know better.

“Why is it that when things get complicated, it’s usually you at the root of it?” she asked, not daring to make eye contact as she spoke.

That earned a trifecta of snorts within the SUV, including one from the man in the seat next to the princess. She couldn’t imagine that would play out well for him.

To her surprise, Aelin broke into a laugh of her own, a full and musical sound. That certainly wasn’t the demeanor she remembered from all those years ago, but she supposed she had changed along the way, too. She remained motionless, awaiting the moment when the princess would finally make some sense of what was happening.

“You’re definitely funnier than the last time I saw you,” Aelin mused, humor still laced through the words.

“Considering we were taking a tumble down the stairs then, I hardly had time to show you the true breadth of my humor,” Lysandra deadpanned. “So, is there some test I have to pass or act I must perform for you to tell me what the hell I’m doing here?”

Aelin tapped her fingers on the back of the seat in a steady rhythm, considering how to best respond.

“I know we’re not likely allies, Lysandra, but—” She was interrupted by the man full of tension in the driver’s seat.

“Perhaps we wait until we’re in a more secure location for details, Princess,” he said quickly.

It was no small amount of amusement that coursed through Lysandra at his gruff interruption, but she couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of pity for the man, too. She knew Aelin’s temper; better than most, probably. She opened her eyes to see how this interaction was going to play out, humored by the wide-eyed expression Aedion had fixed on the back of Salvaterre’s head. He clearly knew his cousin’s temper well, too.

“So, someone lets Lorcan drive the big SUV, and suddenly he’s making decisions for the kingdom. Fascinating,” she said coldly, her tone making it obvious that she did not find it fascinating.

Lysandra watched his eyes, so dark brown that they were almost black, roll into the back of his head from the rearview mirror. He pinched his nose with the hand not on the steering wheel. His response was strained, as if he were an angry father holding back his temper in front of guests.

“No, your Highness,” he bit out, “it was you who appointed me to command this particular mission. I thought my input would be valued.”

Lysandra decided she might like Lorcan Salvaterre.

“I have to agree with him, Fireheart,” a deep voice murmured from the backseat. “Let’s get to the war room, and we can explain there.” His tone was gentle, placating.

“Oh come off it, Buzzard. I know,” she retorted impatiently.

Silence, albeit tense, settled over the vehicle for the remaining minutes of the drive. Lysandra’s eyes drifted over slightly to Aedion, taking in the determined set of his jaw and the elegant strength of his upper body. It baffled her to think they’d been so comfortable with one another just a short time ago; laughing together, spinning across the dance floor, and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. In that moment, he was only a middle seat away from her, but it might as well have been miles.

It struck her suddenly that she’d been playing a part, and as recent information unveiled, Aedion had done the very same. She had allowed herself to get comfortable in the illusion, when the distance and silence were their actual reality. The pang of disappointment that settled in her stomach was a surprise, to say the least.

Their current route brought them to a back entrance of the royal quarters, Lorcan patiently moving through several security checkpoints in the process. He brought the SUV to a stop within a large, reinforced garage, waiting to exit the vehicle until the door had fully descended. He and Aedion opened their doors simultaneously, almost as if they’d choreographed the movements.

Lorcan moved to open her door for her, and she climbed out as carefully as possible to not expose herself. The white dress shirt wasn’t exactly modest, despite the length, but she was relieved to see Lorcan’s gaze fixed over her shoulder. Aedion was busy pulling his seat forward, and the other man climbed out behind him. She bit back a giggle at watching such a large man unfold himself from the third row seat.

When the light of the garage graced the planes of his face, she noticed he had an intricate tattoo starting at his face and traveling all the way down to his hand. Rather than find it intimidating, she found it rather beautiful and was interested in being able to look at it more closely once inside. That had to wait for another time, being that she couldn’t figure out a way to ask a perfect stranger if she could stare at the ink on his face to her heart’s content.

Probably because there wasn’t one.

“Weapons?” Lorcan asked her, daring now to glance down at her and over the lines of her body. She’d been given the once over far more times than she could count in her lifetime, but this large, intense man had a way of making it seem incredibly clinical.

“She’s good,” Aedion replied, as he rounded the back of the SUV and walked toward them.

“You’re sure?” Lorcan asked skeptically.

“Yep. Ripped her gown off myself,” he replied casually, almost too casually. “Straight down the middle.”

“Can you not say it like that?” Lysandra exclaimed.

“You WHAT?” Aelin’s shrill voice echoed in the garage.

“Ae, that’s not how I meant it. The mic was sewn in, I had to rip it,” Aedion explained, hoping his cousin didn’t think him a creep.

Aelin waved him off with a quick flick of her wrist back and forth, dismissing that as a concern. “No, I get that. But there was no other way? That gown was… incredible,” she lamented.

Aedion rolled his eyes, utterly unimpressed with his cousin’s fascination with the finer things in life. Despite herself, Lysandra loosed a small laugh, earning a grin from Aelin. It was their first interaction that could count as pleasant. She shook off the feeling of strangeness that overtook her.

She turned her attention toward Lorcan; struck with a question. “Were you really going to take my word for it? Who just asks someone if they have weapons?” she half-teased.

If she expected any sign of humor from Lorcan, she would have been disappointed, but she had her bar set incredibly low. She swore there was the smallest glint in his eye at her question, the corner of his mouth twitching as if resisting the urge to draw up in a smile.

“Would you rather I have gone straight in with a pat down, then?” The glint in his eye remained, and it confirmed for Lysandra that she did, indeed, like Lorcan Salvaterre.

“Alright,” Aedion interrupted. “Enough. Shall we move to the war room, Commander?”

If Lysandra didn’t know any better, he almost seemed a little jealous at their banter, but she decided it was most likely impatience.

The group of them walked into the palace, Aelin leading the way with the imposing man from the backseat. Lorcan walked immediately behind them, shadowing the princess and scanning the halls for any threats to their safety. Seeing him in this way, his massive form on total alert, made Lysandra pity anyone who thought attacking them was a good idea.

She and Aedion walked behind him, silently keeping pace with the others. They took so many turns through the halls that she quickly felt disoriented, so it startled her when she felt Aedion’s fingers caress the back of her hand. She turned to him, eyes wide, and he grimaced in response.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “You okay? You look overwhelmed.”

A laugh bubbled out of her at that, their current situation suddenly seeming hilarious to her.

“I was basically just kidnapped and whisked away to the royal family’s quarters, I’m not even in my own clothes, and I still have no idea why. So yes, overwhelmed covers it,” she said through a laugh.

He huffed a laugh through his nose in response. “Understandable.”

She noticed that she was comforted by their conversation; that despite only meeting him officially hours ago, their interaction seemed like some type of neutral ground. She considered alluding to that somehow, but her thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at their destination.

The group sat around a large, conference-like table. Even though there were enough chairs for double the people, Aedion settled in to a chair right next to Lysandra, almost as if they were partners in this weird, messed up scenario.

As everyone settled into their respective places, she leaned toward him, his comforting scent enveloping her once again.

“Thanks for vouching for me on the weapons thing,” she began. He nodded in response.

“Although, I was under the impression that you didn’t look.”

The blush that rushed to his cheeks made her heart flutter with fondness. It was one of the purest things she’d seen in a long time. She would never assume this was the prince with such a reputation for promiscuity.

He cleared his throat, trying to master himself to respond. “Um,” he stammered, “I didn’t. Not intentionally, anyway. But I saw enough with the whole dress thing. I didn’t make it a point to look or anything.”

She placed her hand on his forearm, and his eyes fell to it immediately. “Aedion, I was kidding.”

He offered a sheepish smile, and she returned it, hoping to ensure him that she meant no harm.

“So, shall I offer you a quick summary of what led us here?” Aelin surveyed the room, taking inventory of the nods offered her way.

“Please do,” Lysandra insisted, growing impatient with the delay.

Aelin was still in her gown from the gala, her hair pulled back into a chic chignon and a string of delicate pearls around her neck. The woman in front of her was so at odds with the Aelin she’d met so many years ago as Celaena, but somehow both versions suited her.

“As of right now, Terrasen is still governed largely by the lords of our various territories, due to my perceived unfitness for the role as queen,” she explained tensely. “I have no intention of that arrangement being long-term.”

“Imagine that.” The words left her before she remembered she was in an official meeting with the royal court.

Considering that she was wearing a man’s dress shirt and no pants, her words probably weren’t the weirdest part of the scenario, though.

Several pairs of eyes turned her way, not used to a person outside their court who would so readily interrupt the princess with a snarky comment. To her delight and amusement, she was rewarded by a sly grin from Lorcan.

“Permission to continue, Miss Ennar?” Aelin asked dryly. This was the version of the princess Lysandra was most comfortable with. The sass, the cold calculation, the clear power moves.

“Granted,” she replied, with a slight bow of her head. Aedion broke into a cough next to her, but neither woman paid him any attention.

Aelin’s jaw twitched, and the familiar blush across her chest told Lysandra told her she nearing “tumble-down-the-stairs” territory. She silently committed to being less difficult for the duration of this evening, lest Aelin decided to throw her out on the street half-naked and without answers.

“Arobynn Hamel has perpetuated the issue by negotiating quite a lucrative trade deal with Adarlan and is the self-appointed trade liaison between our two nations. The lords are nothing if not myopic, and they believe Arobynn to be the key to economic reform in Terrasen,” she explained.

Her words were met with vacant stares around the table, but the tension in the war room spoke enough of their disdain for her boss.

“As you can imagine,” she continued, “he’s been effective in manipulating their good favor; going as far as to refuse any fee for his services to Terrasen and claiming that all he wishes in return is to see Terrasen in its former glory.” Her words were punctuated by an obvious eye roll.

“Wouldn’t you have enough sway with Arobynn to recruit him to your cause; to gain his endorsement as the rightful ruler of Terrasen?”

Aelin released a loaded breath. “Quite the opposite, in fact. The majority of his motivation has been my ruination. I know you know him well enough to realize he’s not particularly pleased that I abandoned his ambitions for me years ago, nor is he inclined to let me forget it.”

“Hm,” Lysandra breathed, “so I’m assuming he’s told you his support is a fruitless endeavor?”

“It was far more colorful than how you state it, but yes,” Aelin admitted. “He advised the lords against any conditions under which I would regain control of the throne, using himself as collateral. So, if they ever agree to my ascension, Arobynn claims he will sever all ties and negate all trade deals with Terrasen.”

“Prick,” Lysandra muttered. There was nothing that grated her nerves more than male ego and entitlement.

“Indeed,” Aelin agreed, followed by a very pregnant pause in the room.

The princess almost looked defeated; something she thought she would never see from the fiery woman she’d grown up with. It seemed as though she realized her bland demeanor, as she forced herself to straighten her posture and master her voice.

“The lords truly believe that he’s the medium by which Terrasen is saved. As a result, they will not make decisions out of his favor, fearing it would be a decision that leads the nation to total economic collapse. Their pride would never allow them to call the bluff if they know it would potentially make them responsible for the fall of Terrasen,” Aelin finished.

“And the only way to remove his threat would be for you to rejoin him,” Lysandra added. The tactic wasn’t above her employer in the least; although, she had to admit this was the most ambitious attempt at control he had made.

Aelin only nodded, a grim smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“May I?” Lorcan asked, his eyes fixed on Aelin’s face. The consideration surprised Lysandra considering their prior interactions. She waved in permission.

“Our sources on the inside tell us they’ve witnessed conversations that indicate there may be a threat to her Highness’ safety. Whether that’s purely Arobynn’s motivation for retribution, or a task contracted by the lords, remains to be identified.”

Her eyes snapped to Aelin’s face, a jolt of cold fear working its way down her spine. The princess’ eyes remained fixed on the tabletop; the man next to her covering her hand with his own. The look in his green eyes promised violence at the idea.

“Who is your source?” she asked, not knowing if it truly mattered to her or if she was unsure of what to say instead.

“They’ve asked to remain classified. I can’t tell you. I’m sorry,” Lorcan supplied.

She refrained from snapping about how she preferred to know if she worked alongside a traitor each day. That was a conversation for another meeting.

“So, what does this have to do with me?” she asked instead. Her eyes scanned each of their faces, hoping that any one of them would put an end to the suspense.

“I need your help,” Aelin stated simply.

Those were certainly words she never thought she would hear tumble from that particular mouth.

“My help?”

Aelin only nodded.

“If you already have someone doing recon for you, what do you need from me? And why send Prince Charming over here to fetch me? Surely we could have met for tea or something,” she rambled, her patience hanging by a thread.

She pretended she didn’t see Aedion flinch out of the corner of her eye.

“Don’t be daft, Lysandra. Arobynn knows you and I aren’t the two to be meeting for fucking tea.” Apparently her Highness was low on patience as well.

She could only blink at Aelin initially, unsure of how to respond to her insult. She couldn’t exactly react how she would have in the past, all hands and minimal words. Aelin was the next to speak, relieving her of the pressure to find the right reply.

“There are limitations to the source we have currently. I need someone to keep me updated continuously; someone he trusts. We knew of your mission tonight to distract Aedion, and it seemed the most organic way to initiate our own with you.”

Lysandra was seeing red. She hated feeling like a pawn in someone else’s game, especially Aelin’s. What was worse, was that it didn’t seem like she had much of an option, anyway. The royal court was never going to share this much information with her and let her walk free without a deal. Were they?

“We needed him to see you and Aedion hitting it off, for him to believe you had effectively seduced him away from my protection,"Aelin continued. "The message has been passed that you two left for a night enjoying each other’s company, and they shouldn’t expect to hear from you until tomorrow.”

“So, I have no rights, then? No choice? You better than anyone else here should understand how the fuck that feels,” she spat.

Aelin flinched—- actually flinched— at Lysandra’s taunt, but she recovered with fire in her eyes. That fire was all too familiar.

“And you have so many choices now?” she retorted. “Have you not grown tired of being the pretty face that Arobynn sics on unsuspecting men so that he may further his agenda?”

“ _Aelin_ —” Aedion warned, but he was cut off by his cousin’s raised hand. Lysandra shrugged off feeling touched by his coming to her defense.

“I’m offering you a job; one that offers you protection by royal order, significant compensation, and allows you to use your skills and training for something worthwhile. Do not insult me by insinuating I would hold you by force or manipulation,” she finished, her cheeks red with anger.

“Aelin, that’s enough. Take a breath,” Aedion insisted, earning a vicious glare in his direction.

Lysandra’s blood was howling in her ears, her vision tunneling rapidly to focus on Aelin and Aelin alone. It seemed nothing had changed about their ability to piss each other off.

“Don’t protect her, Aedion. Let her make her own bed,” Lysandra started.

The prince sat back in his chair, throwing his hand up in a gesture of frustration at the two women in front of him. She turned her attention to the subject of her rage.

“It is you who insults _me_ , Aelin. To insinuate that I’m sitting in Arobynn’s employment, content in a role as a glorified escort without any goals or ambitions of my own. Meanwhile, did you not impose that very thing on your cousin tonight to further your agenda? And do you not intend to have me use my charms to drain Arobynn of information? You anger is misplaced, your Highness. You may claim it’s me, or Arobynn, or whoever else, but you’re no better than he is,” she seethed.

Everyone, even Lorcan, sat straighter in their chairs at her words. They were poised to throw themselves between the two women. It was wise, if she was being honest.

“Are you done?” Aelin asked, seemingly unfazed by Lysandra’s words. It infuriated her even more, but she nodded.

“Let me start by saying I’m sorry. I realize now that there’s an abundance of information you don’t yet have that I should have led with.”

Lysandra gawked at her, noting that several other stares were fixed on the princess as well.

“Thank you,” she murmured, signaling to Aelin to continue.

“I acknowledge what I’m asking of you is a phenomenal risk, and I don’t ask it lightly. There are reasons for everything— Aedion, me bringing you here, all of it. And while I will never claim you aren’t stunning or incredibly charming, neither of those things bore weight on my decision to offer this job to you,” she began.

Although she hated to admit it, Lysandra found herself softening at Aelin’s words.

“I’ve known you for years; trained alongside you. I’ve been on the receiving end of that training,” she remarked with a laugh. “It is your wit and cunning, combined with your special skills training, that made you my go-to for this. Rivals we may have been, but I can appreciate sheer competence in anyone; no matter how much it pains me to admit it.”

“Oh,” Lysandra replied pathetically. Rarely did she find herself speechless, but rarely did Aelin Galathynius compliment her in such a way.

A laugh bubbled out of Aelin at her response, and Lysandra joined her. Every pair of male eyes had shifted from alarm to confusion now, only making them laugh a bit harder.

“I know how it seems with Aedion,” she continued, “but should you choose to accept my offer, Aedion has agreed to maintain a cover of exclusivity with you for the duration of the mission. Arobynn will be salivating at the opportunity for one of his delegates to have direct access to royal information, forcing him to stop offering you the shallow end of his missions. He can’t expect you to continue completing them when you’re on the arm of a member of the royal family he aims to control. And it ensures that he will keep you involved with his plans where I’m concerned.”

“You may be a bitch sometimes, Aelin, but you’re a clever bitch,” Lysandra offered with a sly smile.

“Aren’t I?” She returned Lysandra’s grin. “So, Arobynn will be forced to give you worthwhile work in the meantime, or he will show his hand, giving you the ammo to call him out on his sexist bullshit.”

She thought she could reach out and kiss her right on the mouth for that last statement alone.

“Either way, it gives you the leverage to refuse work that doesn’t suit you,” Aelin finished.

“How long do you anticipate this lasting? While I appreciate the sentiment, I can’t ask Aedion to put his life on pause for a potentially long period of time,” she insisted.

“ _Aedion_ is right here. And it’s fine,” he replied, his voice more strained than it had been all evening. “I’ll do what I need to do for Terrasen.”

His words stung more than she expected. It wasn’t that she expected heartfelt proclamations from him by any means, but his words seemed so cold and detached. They didn’t match the man she had come to know all evening.

“I’m glad you think so, cousin.” The glint in Aelin’s eye promised there was more.

“Oh, you do?” he asked sarcastically.

“I do. Because I need you to be her Guard.”


	3. Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a building chapter, so bear with me! Future chapters will be a little more juicy, I promise! 
> 
> Warning for language.

Aedion sat straighter in his chair, his shoulders tense as he looked at his cousin.

“Her Guard? Surely you’re not suggesting I be with her full-time,” he stated.

Lysandra’s eyes snapped toward him against her will. She didn’t mean to gape, but it wasn’t her fault that she was being discussed as if she weren’t in the room. The prince’s words weren’t unkind, but it seemed to imply that being with her more than absolutely necessary was non-preferred. Lysandra couldn’t decide if she wanted to unpack why that bothered her.

“Of course not, Aedion,” Aelin replied. “You can’t go to work with her.”

He looked unimpressed with her answer.

“Obviously, Ae, but I have projects I’m working on in addition to this particular mission. I’ve already agreed to remain exclusive with Lysandra. Would you have me give up everything else for this, too?” he demanded.

“Absolutely not. You will continue with your other duties and maintain your rank as you always have. Your hours already mirror Lysandra’s to a certain extent, and in the event that your schedules are incompatible, Lorcan will substitute as her Guard in your absence.”

Lorcan winked at Lysandra then, a sly smile stretching asymmetrically across his beautifully tan face. She took the opportunity to wink and smile back. The way this conversation was going, Lorcan seemed like he would be more fun, which was surprising, to say the least.

“You and Lysandra will alternate staying at her place some nights and in your quarters on others,” Aelin continued. “That will ensure she’s protected at all times in the evening hours, and Lorcan will substitute during the day when she’s not actively working.”

“Wait,” Lysandra interjected. “This all seems excessive, no? As you said before, I’m well-trained. I could manage on my own just fine.”

“I don’t doubt it. From what we both know about Arobynn, though, he won’t send his weakest, nor will he send anyone alone. He knows of your training better than anyone.”

Lysandra only nodded. She supposed the princess made a point, and if she had to live a double-life, she didn’t hate the idea of additional security.

“What about when she’s with Arobynn and the others at his headquarters? Is she not at risk there, as well?” the green-eyed man asked.

“Nah, Whitethorn. Too many eyes on him; too obvious. He won’t risk damaging his rapport with the others by killing one of his best in their presence,” Lorcan explained.

“Exactly. Arobynn would never be so straight-forward. He’ll contrive things to look like an accident of sorts. Anything else may lead to word of his corruption getting to the public, and he can’t afford that. He’ll send 2-3 people after her, then visit her family once the news gets out to offer to pay for her funeral or something. But that’s a fair question, Rowan,” she assured him with a smile, placing her hand on his tattooed cheek.

Lysandra was relieved to finally know the identity of everyone in the room. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Rowan Whitethorn yet, but he struck her as someone who revealed himself over time. It was interesting to think about what he may look like when he smiled considering his stoic demeanor now.

Aedion sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The circumstances weren’t ideal, that much was clear. Lysandra didn’t particularly love the idea of being babysat anymore than the next person, but his sudden annoyance at their association started to grate her nerves.

“What?” she demanded.

Turquoise eyes snapped up to hers quickly, confusion flashing over his features.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Yes. Anything else you need to say about the less-than-satisfactory conditions you’re forced to work under?”

Lysandra knew her words were partly unfair, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for him right now. She was in the same exact boat, but she was playing with fire in a way he wasn’t. At least he believed in his cousin, their country, and his purpose. She didn’t have that luxury working with Arobynn.

The tension in the room thickened, every pair of eyes trained on them.

“No, Lys. Gods, I’m just wrapping my head around all of this. It’s a lot to take in,” he responded impatiently.

That last little shred of patience that she held for Aedion snapped. She was irritated, exhausted, and ready for the night to be over.

“You think so? It’s a lot for you? Forgive me if I can’t give a _fuck_ about this being hard for you, Aedion. If it’s too much, maybe I can just fake-date Lorcan instead. He’s not bitching nearly as much about spending time with me,” she snapped.

Lorcan dared to huff an arrogant laugh, eyes flitting from her face to Aedion’s.

“Now there’s an idea,” he drawled, shooting Lysandra another secret wink as Aedion rubbed at his face.

“Lorcan—” Rowan warned, his voice low and stern.

“Lysandra suggested it; not me.”

“And it’s not fucking happening,” Aedion snapped, eyes flaring and surprising everyone with the finality of his tone.

He glanced around the room, taking in their expressions. His voice softened once he noticed the raised eyebrows from Aelin and his colleagues.

“The mission has already been initiated,” he said gently. “A switch now would be a threat to its integrity.”

A few moments of silence passed until Aelin dared to break it.

“I have to agree. I think it’s time to end the meeting and get some rest. It’s been a long night already,” she said. “Lysandra, when you arrive at Arobynn’s tomorrow, you’re to play ignorant when you address the team. For all you know, they could have succeeded in gaining access to me since you completed your part of the mission. Assuming you truly want to do this.”

Her eyes raised to meet Aelin’s, the eyes of a woman she’d considered an enemy her entire life. These days, she was learning that things were never quite so black and white.

“I’m in.”

—

The meeting was adjourned, all five of them dragging themselves out of the war room and toward their respective rooms. No one said a word as they parted, too exhausted for small talk or shallow farewells. Aedion’s rooms were farthest from the war room, naturally, leaving them alone in awkward silence for several minutes before arriving at his door.

He opened the door unceremoniously, inviting her inside with a subtle jerk of his head. She obliged, but she found herself very shy at the idea of being in such a personal space with someone she barely knew. Her eyes bounced around the room to take in as much as possible about her surroundings.

“We had discussed you having your own rooms, but—”

“If you have eyes in Arobynn’s inner circle, you can’t be sure no one’s watching,” she finished. “I get it; keep it as authentic as possible.”

He nodded his agreement before walking over to the wardrobe to retrieve his nightclothes.

“So, we don’t have any of your stuff here yet. Do you want something to sleep in? I meant to ask Aelin, but I forgot.”

Her stomach fluttered at his consideration, but she shoved it down. He probably learned this infinite politeness in cotillion.

“That would be great. Thank you,” she replied, unsure of what to do with herself.

Aedion handed over some clothes and showed her to the ensuite bathroom. It was massive and beautiful, just what someone would expect of the royal family’s estate. She changed quickly, and after a few minutes, she heard Aedion knock softly at the door.

“Come in,” she called as she adjusted her night clothes. She wasn’t a petite woman necessarily, but Aedion was far bigger in frame. Everything was hanging off of her awkwardly, overwhelming her with what to do with all the extra fabric.

“Just need to brush my teeth,” he replied as he creeped around the door.

His eyes latched onto hers in the mirror, and a small chuckle bubbled out of his chest at her current predicament.

“You’re swimming in those,” he murmured, turning toward her to offer his help.

Lysandra didn’t object to his adjustments as he moved deftly around her. He rolled her sleeves quickly as he’d done with his dress shirt at the gala, then reached toward her waist to adjust the band of her pants. Without thinking, Lysandra lifted the too-long hem of her night shirt slightly to allow him access. Aedion’s hands froze at her waist, hovering just inches above the band, as if he had caught himself doing something he shouldn’t.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, hoping to the gods that she wasn’t blushing at his proximity.

He hesitated another second before his hands were on her, methodically adjusting the fit of his sleep pants. He tugged the drawstring tightly and glanced up to Lysandra to make sure it wasn’t too snug. When she didn’t give him such an indication, he inserted his thumbs on each side of her hips to roll the band a couple of times.

The feel of his skin against hers was heavenly, and for a second, she completely forgot her annoyance with him from only moments ago. Her mind transported her back to mere hours ago; when she had been content to laugh openly with the man before her, and they exchanged subtle touches as if it were second nature. That version of them was far preferred to the tension humming through them both now.

Aedion cleared his throat as he finished, his brows furrowed with something Lysandra couldn’t place. “There’s face wash by the sink if you want it, and I have an extra toothbrush out for you there.” He pointed near the edge of the sink, where a fresh, green toothbrush was propped.

He brushed his teeth quickly and left the room shortly after, leaving Lysandra to finish up for bed. She emerged into his bedroom a few minutes later, fresh-faced and heavy-limbed. The bed was prepared for sleeping, the pillows fluffed and duvet pulled back to make it easier to slip in. Her mouth practically watered at the sheer size of it combined with, what looked like, the softest of linens.

Her eyes caught on Aedion nearby, draping a blanket across a long chaise near his bedroom window. There was a pillow propped to one side, and he made to lay down as she padded toward the bed. She bit back her giggle at the sight of him. His legs were drawn up in an effort to fit his tall body onto the chaise, and he shifted gracelessly in an effort to fit his broad frame on it comfortably. After watching him adjust for the third time, she couldn’t fight the laugh that forced its way out of her chest.

“Care to share what’s so funny?” the prince demanded, but there was no bite in his voice as there had been earlier.

“I’m just amazed that there’s truly no limit to your politeness. You clearly don’t fit on that chaise, Aedion.”

“It’s fine,” he responded.

“No,” she laughed, “it’s not. You’re not going to sleep a wink. Switch with me.”

His head popped up from his pillow, eyes wide. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to sprawl across that bed while my guest crams themselves onto this chaise.”

Lysandra wondered if she would come to regret her suggestion, but it pained her to see him folded up on that piece of furniture.

“This bed is massive. Why don’t we share? I’ll keep to my side.”

“I— uh. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. I don’t mind sleeping here for the night,” he insisted.

“If I’m inviting you, I’m not uncomfortable. Although, your consideration is quite charming. If you’re not okay with sharing, I understand.”

Aedion bit his lip as he considered; battling some internal etiquette war, no doubt. She dared to lean over and pat the other side of the bed, her final invitation. She wasn’t going to beg, for the gods’ sake.

Finally, he walked over, hesitating slightly at the side of the mattress. The shuffling sounds of the sheets were the only noise in the room until he lay back on his pillow and moaned indecently at his comfort.

Lysandra pretended it did nothing to hear the sound come from deep in his chest as she shifted to get settled on her side.

Each of them were on their backs, laying as far apart as they could without any of their limbs hanging over the edge. Lysandra took a deep breath, exhaling loudly as she snuggled deeper into the pillow. There were definitely worse accommodations than where we was currently, that was for sure. Aedion leaned over to shut off the lamp next to him, and suddenly, the silence was deafening.

A giggle bubbled out of Lysandra, surprising even herself with sound. The sequence of events from the evening dawned on her out of nowhere, and she wasn’t confident that she wasn’t living in some type of simulation. Was she really in the royal estate, sharing a bed with the promiscuous prince of Terrasen? Had she actually just agreed to do recon on her own boss, consequences be damned?

Yes to all of the above. This day had taken quite the detour.

“You’re certainly a giggle box tonight,” Aedion remarked, that familiar mischief dancing through his words.

“I’m sorry. I think I’m delirious from exhaustion or something.”

Her laughter continued. When Aedion didn’t comment further or join her, she spoke again.

“All of this isn’t crazy to you? We started the night as strangers; agents from opposite sides of a mission who were tasked with flirting with each other, essentially. Fast forward, and I’ve agreed to double-cross my boss who’s one of the most lethal men in Adarlan to help your cousin regain control of her throne,” Lysandra rambled through her laughter. “Now, I’m in bed with a man that I know almost nothing about, and we’re not even having sex. Aedion, what the fuck is my life?”

The prince started to laugh openly along with her, but whether he was tickled by her words or her manic behavior remained to be seen. She felt the the bed shift next to her, and she could make out the outline of his form facing her by the outdoor lighting filtering in around the curtains.

“When you put it that way, I have no idea what your life is,” he joked, his head propped up on his hand.

Lysandra recovered slowly and wiped at the tears that had leaked from her eyes. “Sorry again. I don’t mean to keep you up. I’m a terrible roommate.”

He chuckled at that. “Not even close. It’s been a weird night by anyone’s standards.”

Lysandra hummed her agreement, turning on her side to face him. The distance she noted in the backseat of the SUV seemed almost close compared to the space between them in Aedion’s massive bed, but she supposed that was for the best.

“Do you want to know me, Lys?” he murmured, and her breath caught in her throat.

“What?” she replied dumbly. She cursed herself for not having a more charming response, but his words paired with the low rasp of his voice was overwhelming in that moment.

“You said we’re strangers, and you’re right. Regardless, we’re going to be spending a ton of time together, so it seems wise to get to know each other. Go ahead, ask me something.”

“Okay,” she began. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Easy. Green.”

“Hm. You struck me as a blue guy,” she mused.

“What qualifies me as a ‘blue guy’?”

“I don’t know. Just a hunch, I guess.”

“Alright,” he replied, content to accept her logic. “It’s my turn. What’s your favorite animal?”

“Oo, good one,” she said, falling silent as she considered. “I’m going with ghost leopard.”

Aedion let out a short laugh. “That was incredibly specific.”

“Who’s your best friend?” she asked quietly.

“Aelin. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

For some reason that answer surprised her. It wasn’t that she didn’t think Aelin would have people around her who cared, but she was used to people claiming someone outside of their family as their best friend. The immediacy and sincerity of his reply touched her, too.

“That’s really sweet,” she replied. “It’s your turn.”

“How do you know Salvaterre?” She noted the hesitancy in his tone and smiled a little at his curiosity.

“I met him tonight. Why?”

He was quiet for a few seconds, leaving her to wonder if he believed her.

“No reason, really. You two just seemed familiar, I guess. Lorcan is grouchy at best with most people, but he seemed comfortable around you. I thought maybe you two had worked together before or something,” he explained.

“Oh. He didn’t seem so bad.”

Another chuckle from Aedion. “Well, consider yourself one of the chosen ones then. I can’t remember if it was the first or second time I interacted with him that he punched me. Do with that information what you will.”

“Did you deserve it?” she asked through a laugh.

“I really don’t think I did. I’m the first to admit to being antagonistic at times, but I think I met him at the wrong time or something.”

“Or you remind him too much of Aelin,” she theorized.

“Oh, shit. I bet you’re right.”

They shared a laugh, followed by a contagious yawn from Lysandra. Aedion’s followed immediately, and he rolled to his back to situate himself in blankets.

“Let’s do one more before we pass out, yeah? Your turn.”

Lysandra considered several different questions, struggling to decide on one due to her grogginess. After a minute of silence, she blurted the next one to occur to her.

“If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, who would it be?”

“Dead or alive?” Aedion asked through another yawn.

“Either.”

“My dad. I’d kill to talk to him one more time,” he murmured.

Lysandra’s eyes snapped open and fell on his profile. From what she could make out in the low light, he looked unbothered, but she felt like a jerk anyway. Her hand gravitated to his shoulder automatically.

“Aedion… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so heavy.”

His head rolled her direction, and she could just barely see the fluttering of his eyelashes as he looked toward her. The turquoise and gold of his eyes were branded into her mind, so she used her imagination to picture them meeting her own.

“Hey, it’s okay. No harm done. He passed a while back,” he assured her.

She pulled her hand away, missing the warmth of his body in a way she didn’t feel allowed. The pillow cradled her head comfortably as she settled onto her back and pulled the duvet up to her chin.

“Okay,” she conceded weakly, although guilt continued to course through her.

“By the way, I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I was caught off guard and being an ass, none of which was your fault.”

“Thank you. Goodnight, Aedion,” she murmured, his sincerity and her exhaustion making her more emotional than usual at his apology.

“Night. Oh, and Lys?”

“Yeah?”

“Good call on blue. It used to be my favorite, actually.”

A smile stretched across her lips, her competitive nature pleased at the admission.

“I knew it! When did it change?”

“Tonight.”

Her heart thundered in her chest as her brain caught up to his reference of her; in an emerald green dress only hours ago. She was rendered speechless by his words, but his even breathing told her he had fallen asleep mere seconds after the words left him. She remained quiet, focusing all her energy on steadying her rapidly beating heart.

Lysandra’s smile stayed in place until sleep claimed her.


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysandra debriefs Arobynn and her colleagues on her night with Aedion Ashryver, pitches an alternative approach to the mission, and continues to get to know her counterpart to the mission with the royal court.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s) for strong language, manipulative behavior, and threats of violence/murder.

For the second time in 24 hours, Lysandra found herself at a large conference table. The difference this time was that she was back in familiar territory, sitting among the men she worked with on a daily basis. They were awaiting Arobynn’s arrival (whenever he deigned to show) so that they could all discuss the previous night’s mission. She reminded herself repeatedly that morning to be mindful of her wording as to not give away that she knew far more than she did, but regardless of the very different circumstances, she found herself resentful of having to play dumb yet again.

It was only temporary, she told herself. Very, very temporary. 

Limited sleep and a download of heavy information left her brain foggy that morning. She caught herself rotating her paper coffee cup by the base, reading and re-reading the warnings that the cup contained hot liquid as if she were following an enchanting plot. Although that clearly wasn’t the case, the action was keeping her eyes open and her mouth shut at the very least. 

Her thoughts wandered to how she awoke that morning, wrapped tightly in the prince of Terrasen’s duvet. True to his gentlemanly nature, he remained parked on his side of the mattress through the night to allow Lysandra maximum space. She couldn’t help but feel a slight disappointment at that, if only for the fact that she was a natural cuddler that gravitated toward any heat source in her own slumber. Aedion had been quick to dress for the day so that he could bring her back to her apartment early enough to get ready for work, and his manners persisted as they had the night before. 

The formality of those impeccable manners was wearing out its welcome, she realized. If they were going to do this extended mission together, he was going to need to relax. She made a mental note to discuss that with him this evening; when they’d inevitably find themselves in each other’s company again. That’s not to say she didn’t wholly appreciate the facts that he was kind and respectful, nor did she expect him to overcorrect and be a complete jerk. A little reassurance that he could lower his walls and drop any pretense couldn’t hurt, though. 

The prince had briefed her on a very small amount of information that she could share with her team without exposing too much. At this juncture, sharing was low-risk since she could still feign ignorance when asked for especially sensitive information. She aimed to not take that for granted considering those opportunities would dwindle as she spent more time with the royal family. 

Lysandra attention snapped up when she heard the door open to the conference room. As always, Arobynn walked in fashionably late to his mission briefing with an air of superiority to which she had long since become accustomed. Today in particular; however, it grated her nerves. 

“Morning, all,” he greeted, a small smile aimed at all of them. 

“Morning,” they answered in unison, the whole group eager to get on with this meeting. 

Her eyes scanned the room, taking in her colleagues with a renewed perspective. Tern, Harding, and Mullin were all sitting in their usual spots, the same arrogant expressions on their faces, but Lysandra found herself scanning their features for any tell that they served as Lorcan’s internal contact. Not knowing was slowly gnawing at her.

“This brief will be on the shorter end of the spectrum considering the results of last night’s mission,” he began.

Lysandra thought this was as good of a time as any to initiate her role as the clueless agent, out of the loop as usual. 

“What were the results, sir? I left the gala prior to the rest of you, and the anticipation has been killing me.”

A snort sounded from Tern, but she was undeterred. She slid her gaze over to him slowly, then promptly shifted her attention back to Arobynn’s face in quick dismissal. 

“We were unsuccessful in gaining access to the princess,” Arobynn answered, his tone dripping with disappointment. “The mission was a failure.”

Lysandra made a show of sitting a little taller in her seat and angled her body toward her boss more fully. She would be lying if she claimed she wasn’t about to shamelessly stroke her own ego, but she wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to humble the most arrogant men in this room. 

“I don’t know that I would be so collective in calling the mission a failure. The reason I wasn’t present is because I very much held up my end of the bargain. What the hell happened?” she demanded.

Tern laughed openly then, slanting an incredulous look in her direction. She leveled him with a glare and waited for his commentary. 

“Are you recruiting a gold star for having sex with Aedion Ashryver last night? Quality spy work you did there, Lysandra,” he sneered. 

“Taunt and slut shame all you want, Tern, but I cleared the way for the rest of you to do what needed to be done,” she replied calmly, as her eyes scanned around the table. “Obviously, I only succeeded for all of you to do nothing but drop the ball entirely—“

Arobynn’s authoritative tone interrupted her. “Enough.”

“I don’t think it is,” she persisted. She allowed her temper to flare slightly in order to sell her point. “I basically handed all of you Aelin Galathynius on a silver-fucking-platter, and you choke? How easy would it have needed to be to make it happen?”

“I said _enough_ , Lysandra,” Arobynn said in a raised voice, just as his palm made contact with the table top. 

Satisfaction flooded through her at his bristling. She wasn’t too proud to admit it. 

“Unbeknownst to us, Aelin left the gala earlier than expected due to a bout of suspected food poisoning. At one point, she excused herself from some of the attendees to visit the restroom, but she didn’t return. We did some digging and realized that’s why she hadn’t come back,” Arobynn explained. 

Tern had the good sense to look bashful, refusing to make eye contact with Lysandra since she’d called him out on his taunting. He remained quiet, and it may have been the best thing to ever happen to her up to that point. She only nodded her head in acknowledgement of Arobynn’s explanation.

“You do raise a relevant topic, pet. Why don’t you brief us on your night with Prince Ashryver? Did you happen upon any information that may help us in the future?”

Lysandra suppressed a gag at Arobynn’s term of endearment and shoved it down into her subconscious in the hopes that it couldn’t even be unearthed in her dreams. 

“I’ll save you the details. A lady never kisses and tells, after all,” she said sweetly through a smile. 

Her expression and her words were the perfect portrait of what they assumed a woman should be, timid and bashful regarding her night between the sheets. If only they knew she was a complete liar; being the first one to overshare with her friends after a night with a particularly good lover. 

“Unfortunately, that means I have very little to report today.”

It was Harding who decided to take the next proverbial swing at her role in the mission. “While I understand you not wanting to share the particulars, it’s a little disappointing to hear that you didn’t manage to acquire any intel while in the prince’s presence for so long.”

His words were infuriating in their own right, but even more than that, it was the condescension. It was the tone of superiority from someone who didn’t outrank her, who was a colleague in every sense of the definition. Gods, she tired of the patriarchal themes of these meetings.

“Must I remind you that it wasn’t my responsibility to gather intel on the prince? Or any member of the royal family? Had you not succumbed entirely to your incompetence, you could get that information directly from the source,” she spat.

Harding’s cheeks turned a bright red, his jaw clenching at her boldness. Lysandra didn’t give a shit about keeping the peace today. She’d done that too many times before. 

“And do you think you were assigned your role because of your particular cleverness, Lysandra? Don’t kid yourself. You were assigned to that role because you hit the genetic lottery; no other reason.”

There was no way for Harding to know the chord he’d struck with his words, how deeply they pained her. She had never voiced her discontent with her frequent assignments, but it looked like Harding was especially lucky today. Suddenly, her vision tunneled, and she was seeing red at a rate that worried even her. Luckily for her colleague, Arobynn inserted himself into their verbal sparring. 

“Harding, enough from you. Do not claim to speak for the entirety of this group as it pertains to Lysandra.”

She hated that it comforted her that Arobynn defended her. She also hated that she felt a shred of guilt, as if he suddenly had her best interests at the forefront at all times. Shaking off those emotions as subtly as possible, she took some deep breaths to avoid launching for Harding’s throat. 

“Although it’s true that you possess certain traits that offered a high probability of success, it’s also true that it wasn’t your job to attain any information. The insinuation that you should have is largely unfair,” he added, leveling a glare toward Harding. 

Lysandra tried not to overanalyze Arobynn’s statement; tried not to hear it as a confirmation that her appearance landed her in that particular role. Although she knew better, she didn’t want to believe that he thought so little of her potential contributions in any other role. In addition, she needed him to realize how fucking ridiculous it sounded and how little he realized he relied on her. 

She had been his closer more times than she could count, and it was about time he admitted it to her and the others. The idea of continuing to pad the fragile egos of these men and allowing them to credit themselves with her contributions was absolutely nauseating to her now.

For some reason, the compulsion to hear him admit it clanged through her like a bell, and the words tumbled out of her mouth in a steady stream. She supposed that bell sounded a lot like Aelin Galathynius.

“I see,” she started. “So I was only meant as a physical distraction then?” 

“Lysandra,” Arobynn fussed, “you know that’s not how I meant it.”

“It’s a fair question. There must be a reason you picked me in particular. It’s no secret that the prince enjoys the company of both men and women, so his sexuality didn’t restrict you to me,” she pointed out. “If it was truly a matter of the physical, you could have sent Tern. He’s quite the beautiful idiot. We’re nearly interchangeable, no?”

Her boss rubbed his temples in frustration, and although she knew she should really rein herself in, she was struggling to bottle her long-repressed emotions. She tried not to roll her eyes as Tern preened slightly at her comment. Objectively, he was quite an attractive man, but she’d also called him an idiot within the same breath. Selective hearing at its finest. 

“No,” he responded through clenched teeth. “You’re not. I knew of his preferences, but by nature, I thought he would be most open to you. I thought he’d be less likely to interpret your kindness as manipulation and would be less skeptical of your intentions. He very well may have been more critical of the same actions from the men.”

Lysandra did nothing to suppress the humorless laugh that erupted from her. 

“That is exactly the kind of thinking that got us in this position, Arobynn. You really thought the prince would be less defensive of a woman? That he would trust me more readily? For fuck’s sake, his cousin is Aelin. That woman alone could run circles around the calculation of this group, and you know it.”

She paused to take a deep breath, and to her amazement, the group remained silent. It appeared that she’d managed to render all of them speechless, even if it was temporary. 

“What you fail to realize is that you needed someone who could work independently and fulfill their duty; someone you didn’t have to babysit and micromanage. You knew I could manage on my own because I always have. Yet somehow, I’m on the receiving end of criticism from my colleagues for not doing my job, plus their portion. I’ve never seen such pathetic deflection of responsibility in my life,” she ranted. 

“Your point is made. I’ve already announced that those criticisms are unfounded, so can we move on?” Arobynn’s patience was rapidly dissolving, but he wasn’t wrong. To his credit, he had defended her performance, but it was hard to reel things in when she’d let the beast run. Especially when every word she spoke felt like a small weight lifted from her chest; a weight she didn’t realize had grown so heavy. 

“Since you seem to be quite opinionated this morning, do you have any recommendations on how to proceed?”

Lysandra considered his question for a moment and thought it could be the time to propose continuing to see Aedion romantically. The momentum of this conversation was definitely hers, so in the event that she was met with any apprehension, she thought it best to have the upper hand. 

“As much as I loathe to admit it, I don’t think you made a total mistake in assigning me to Aedion last night,” she started. “His highness told me this morning that he quite enjoyed spending time with me and would like to see me again.”

“And what does that mean as it relates to the mission at hand?” Mullin, the last member of their team, asked. 

“Great question. I think it gives us an alternative to how we approach this whole thing. If I maintain close contact with the prince, I’ll have an advantage in contacting information that could be of benefit to us. Admittedly, we shift to playing more of a long game, but it’s much safer while resulting in the same amount of intel.”

She watched as they all considered it, feeling optimistic that they may buy in to her plan since they didn’t shut it down immediately. 

“That would put a considerable amount on your shoulders,” Harding remarked. Lysandra ignored him. 

“It won’t work,” Arobynn said finally, and her stomach dropped into the floor. 

“Oh?”

“Aelin will recognize you immediately the first time he brings you around their court. She knows that your name isn’t Olivia, and she’s likely to forbid the prince from continuing to see you. It’ll blow this whole thing up and expose us.”

Shit. Her brain scrambled to find solutions, and whether it was the coffee or the anger that fueled her quick reasoning, she was thankful nonetheless. 

“I thought a little about that last night in case she had seen us together at the gala.” Lie. 

“I think that’s a semi-simple fix.” Another lie. “Remember, I met Aelin as Celaena all those years ago, so it’s not completely far-fetched that I would now go by another name as well. In addition to that, she and I hated each other. We haven’t kept in touch, so she would have no way of knowing that I eventually started working full-time for you, especially in this capacity. Plus, as a safety net, I already told Aedion that I work as a corporate liaison for multiple companies across Terrasen and Adarlan.”

Quite honestly, she was a little impressed with herself. She loosed a heavy breath in hopes of releasing some of the tension in her body.

“That could work,” she heard Mullin say. His agreement shocked her, but she wasn’t complaining. “Because in the event that she sees you around Arobynn or someone reports to her that they saw you together, you can always claim that you were delivering communication for a client.”

“Exactly,” Lysandra emphasized, as if she’d thought of this plan prior to three minutes ago and had used that rationale for what job she communicated to Aedion.

Arobynn looked at her heavily in consideration, weighing the options. She could almost hear his thoughts as she waited, and the tension from before started to settle back into her muscles. 

“That still doesn’t cover the possibility that she forbids Aedion from seeing you,” he finally said. 

“You’re right. It doesn’t. I admit that’s a risk, but the odds are low in my opinion.”

Her boss only nodded; her prompt to continue. 

“Look, knowing the details of your plans for Aelin is above my pay grade, and I get that. But when you run in the social circles as you do and as she does, word spreads. I know enough to know there’s discord between the two of you. She would be a fool to not see my proximity as a benefit. Why wouldn’t she capitalize on the possibility that I could happen upon information she needs through my work ?” 

He sat deep in thought for a few moments as he turned her words over. 

“And in the event she asks for information, what do you plan to tell her?” he asked. 

“I’ll tell her what you want me to tell her.” _Plus whatever she wants to know._

“This is a massive undertaking, Lysandra. How can you be sure the prince will continue seeing you long enough for any of this to matter?”

“I can’t be sure,” she lied. “But in the event that he doesn’t, we can regroup and approach it similarly to how we have already.”

“That could waste valuable time,” Tern interjected. “Only for us to have to work around your failure.” 

“I guess that would make us dead even, then,” she bit, with a deadly smile plastered on her face. “I wouldn’t concern yourself with that possibility though since, as you stated before, I do some quality spy work.” 

Tern looked at though he wanted to choke her until she turned blue, but he wouldn’t do it with an audience. Had they been alone, she couldn’t help but feel like it could be another story entirely.

“Boys, you three are dismissed. I’d like to speak with Lysandra alone for a moment,” Arobynn stated, as dread weighed heavily on Lysandra’s stomach. 

They left quietly, none of them daring a word even once they crossed the threshold of the door. Lysandra took a sip of her coffee to have something to do with her hands and prayed Arobynn would fill the silence sooner rather than later. It wasn’t until the door had clicked shut and the echo of the sound dissipated that he spoke. 

“I hope you realize what you’re offering,” he began. “Should you get caught in such an intricate web of lies and Aelin learns of your alliance, you’d be tried for treason.” 

She made a show of nodding somberly. “I— I know. But I believe in this plan, and I really think I can pull it off. You’ve done so much for my family, and if this is how I can contribute, I want to do it.” 

“You truly believe you can pull this off then? And you’re willing to commit yourself to this mission entirely so as to not put me or your colleagues at risk?” 

“Of course.”

He nodded succinctly before speaking again. 

“Evangeline’s boarding school tuition is covered for this semester already.”

“I can’t thank you enough. She loves it so much, and it comforts me to know she’s safe and happy.”

Her voice softened at the mention of her little sister. She was inclined to feel guilty once more, but she remembered that her salary from the royal family would cover Evageline’s tuition, plus more than what Lysandra was currently making. 

“No need to thank me again, pet. It was all part of our initial agreement.”

It was her turn to nod as an uneasy feeling settled into her chest.

“Though, should you not be able to fulfill your duties, that would effectively void our agreement. I’d hate to halt payment on the next semester being that she’s so well-adjusted.”

She should have seen his mention of her sister for the threat that it was, but it seemed like such a low blow. Even for someone like Arobynn Hamel.

“I see. That won’t be necessary,” she assured him.

“I should hope not,” he said as he stood and straightened the lapels of his jacket.

He walked around the table and slowed to a stop just behind Lysandra’s chair. His fingers ran over her upper arms and her shoulders, before he rested them near her neck and massaged the tense muscles with his thumbs. Lysandra sat perfectly still to avoid flinching away from him.

“Although, she may need some time away from the school after attending your funeral,” he finished, smoothing the fabric of her shirt where he had disrupted it. “You never know how one will recover from such grief.”

He was out of the room before the iciness had settled entirely through her veins.

—

The words ricocheted through her brain over the rest of the day. The threat to her life was alarming, but in her line of work, it wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. It was definitely the first time the threat came from Arobynn, though.

The ones that affected her the most were the threats to Evangeline’s education and livelihood. She wasn’t sure if Arobynn would actually go through such consequences with an innocent 10-year-old. At the same time, he wasn’t explicitly responsible for her, even if he was the one to end her life based on a fumbled mission.

The thought made goosebumps erupt over her flesh yet again.

The rest of her workday was uneventful, but considering the way her morning had gone, that was hardly a surprise. The bar was pretty high, as far as eventfulness was concerned. Lysandra spent her time in meetings meant to close out other completed assignments and further designing her cover for the current side of her mission. Arobynn requested a more detailed game plan with hypothetical solutions to very hypothetical scenarios, presumably to demonstrate that she had thought her plan through. He wasn’t going to put his trust in someone winging it.

What she presented must have satisfied him, for the short-term at least, so she debriefed the group before leaving for the day. All the deception she had participated in over the last 24 hours was already wearing on her, and she made a mental note to exercise her mental resilience in order to wear both of her assigned hats successfully.

As Arobynn had so blatantly pointed out, her actual life and Evangeline’s future rested heavily on her ability to do so. Granted, he assumed he was only asking her to hold one mission together. Either way, failure wasn’t on the list of options.

When Lysandra arrived at her apartment, she grabbed her work bag from the backseat and jolted when she turned to notice Lorcan leaning on the hood. He was propped back against it, arms crossed and one ankle thrown casually over the other. A hint of amusement trickled onto his face at her startling, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of confirming it.

“Did you miss me?”

She scoffed, leveling him with a glare as she walked briskly by him. “I’ve hardly had the time to miss you.”

Lorcan caught up with her in just a few of his large paces, his long legs making it easier than it should have been at her pace.

“You wound me, Olivia. I thought we were coming along just fine,” he teased.

Noting the use of her code name, she realized he was being conservative in the event that she was wearing any type of device.

“I suppose we were. Where’s Aedion?” she asked casually, as they climbed the stairs to the third floor.

“Ah, I forgot to mention that. His Highness had a meeting that ran over. He requested that I come ahead to sweep your building for any security threats prior to his arrival.”

She wondered if he was lying to cover the fact that he was there to babysit her or if he was actually telling the truth. The idea seemed probable, but considering the tension she sensed between Aedion and Lorcan the night before, she didn’t know that he would trust the man’s assessment.

“Well, don’t let me stop you. Sweep away, Mr. Salvaterre. I’m going to shower,” she announced.

Lorcan nodded tensely, then paused at the threshold of her door where she had left it open. He slid his hands into his pockets as he looked at her impatiently. They were definitely playing their respective parts then, because the man she met last night seemed more like the type to walk in as if he owned the place and kick his feet up on her coffee table. Right now though, this was a man who worked for the royal family and who was expected to demonstrate the proper etiquette.

“Do come in,” she insisted, her tone full of mock reverence. She added a half-bow for good measure.

Rolling his dark brown eyes, Lorcan strolled into her apartment and immediately got to work. She left him to do whatever he needed as she bathed. Lysandra allowed the hot water to relax her sore muscles, staying beneath the spray longer than usual. She changed into casual clothes before padding into her living room, only to find Lorcan sprawled across her couch and flipping through a magazine.

“So, is this you at your most lethal?” she joked. “I thought you were my security.”

Maybe humor wasn’t the best way to initiate what was sure to be a very awkward evening, but she was low on material as it applied to how to behave in such situations. There was hardly a rule book. A dark chuckle erupted from behind the magazine before he snapped it shut and smirked at her.

“All I had left to check out was the bathroom,” he told her, jest in his voice as well. “I didn’t realize you expected me to join you.”

“That’s because I didn’t,” she said, deadpan. “Any threats to speak of?”

“None yet. I’ll let you know what comes of the bathroom.”

Lysandra nodded her consent, then walked to the kitchen to pour a much needed glass of wine after the day she had. In all honesty, she preferred something strong, but wine was all she had on hand. She brought her glass and the bottle to the living room, placing the bottle on the coffee table and sitting heavily into the couch. Her head rolled back to land on the couch cushions as events from the day slammed into her with renewed vigor.

Lorcan reappeared a couple of minutes later. “All clear.”

She snapped her head up in acknowledgment and was horrified to feel the smallest trace of wetness stream down her cheek. Gods, was she really crying in front of Lorcan? On Day 1 of the mission, no less? Her tears were promptly wiped on the sleeve of her t-shirt, and she hoped he would pretend he hadn’t seen a thing.

“Umm, do you— do you need a minute?” He stammered.

“No, no, no. I’m fine, really. I’m exhausted is all.”

Lorcan stood there with a contemplative look on his place for several seconds. He loosed a long breath, his shoulders sagging, as he finished his way toward the couch. He placed himself on the opposite side to allow her plenty of room, and for that, she was grateful.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, his voice gentler than she had ever heard it.

“You really want to do that?” she asked through a smirk. He returned it, as if they were mirror images.

“I mean, don’t do it out of service to me, by any means. But if you want to talk, I’m here for a while anyway.”

Lysandra chuckled softly. “Wow. Such a compelling argument for sharing,” she mused.

He only shrugged, as if to imply he was satisfied with the argument.

“It was just a really long day of confrontation and using the bulk of my mental energy. I’ll be okay, though.”

“You’ve taken on a lot of shit in the last 24 hours, so I think you get a pass,” he encouraged.

“Yeah. And it got all the more complicated when Arobynn basically threatened to kill me if I fuck anything up,” she remarked, unsure of why she was sharing so much information. Something about Lorcan made her feel like he could understand the pressure she was under, so she guessed that’s what inspired her.

Lorcan leaned over then, reaching her a little too easily with his long arms and broad frame. He rested his hand on her knee, and his eyes were earnest once he spoke again.

“Nothing is going to happen to you with us around, Lysandra. You’re safe,” he assured her.

“Thank you,” she murmured, fighting back the tears threatening to prick her eyes yet again.

“You want to go take a nap? I’ll hold it down out here.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” he replied. “I’ll brief Aedion once he arrives if you’re not yet awake. Go get some rest.”

Lysandra didn’t question it any further, desperate to ease the weariness that had settled into her bones. She drifted into sleep almost immediately; but not before feeling incredibly grateful for Lorcan Salvaterre.

—

No light filtered in around the curtains once Lysandra opened her eyes. She had to blink against the darkness several times while she decided whether it was the same night or early the next morning. Being disoriented like this was probably one of her top 5 least favorite feelings, but the incredible nap she took made up for it.

Her footfalls were silent as she padded toward the living room. Aedion was sitting to the far side of her couch, one foot perched on the opposite knee, and a book resting in the box created by his legs. Either he sensed her arrival or tracked her movement through his side eye, demonstrated by the perfectly timed tilt of his head once she entered the room.

“Well, hi,” he said playfully, a broad smile across his face.

“Hey,” she grumbled. Sleep was still gripping her slightly, and she struggled to clear her head. Had it not been for the painful emptiness of her stomach, she may have slept through the entire night.

"Sleep well?"

She managed a nod before flopping onto the other side of the couch.

"I brought take-out if you're hungry. It's on the kitchen counter. Want me to grab you something?"

"That would be wonderful," she replied, curling into the couch cushions.

Aedion returned with several boxes of comfort food and laid them before her so that she could make her choice. She alternated between several because, somehow, he had managed to select most of her favorite dishes.

"How long have you been waiting for me to wake up?"

"Only about an hour or so. Lorcan said you had a long day, and I didn't want to disturb you," he replied from his original position on the couch.

Lysandra nodded, put her empty food dish on her table, and began to tell him of her conversation with Arobynn Hamel. Aedion was an attentive listener throughout, offering only gestures of acknowledgment and various facial expressions. Once she finished, she loosed a long breath and settled further into the cushions to fight the shiver coursing through her.

"If you ask me," he finally stated, "you handled everything as perfectly as you could. His apprehension indicates that he doesn't suspect any ulterior motives, and he had no way of knowing his threats were empty."

Aedion looked entirely unaffected by Arobynn's final words to her, much to Lysandra's annoyance.

"Arobynn's threats are never empty," she assured him firmly.

"I never said I don't believe him," he said nonchalantly. "But we're going to keep you, and your family, safe no matter what. I promise you that."

"That's what Lorcan says, too," she muttered. "I guess it's easy to keep it breezy when the you're not the one whose boss threatens murder."

"I can't speak for Salvaterre, but Aelin threatens me on a weekly basis," he said with a smile.

Despite her anxieties, that earned a small, genuine laugh from Lysandra. He leaned over to take her hand gently and those mesmerizing turquoise eyes landed on hers. She ignored the faint tingling the contact sent up her arm and waited for him to speak.

"All jokes aside, we're going to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Lys. Evangeline, too. I don’t think it will come to that because your skill will pull you through this. Regardless, you should know that you’re not alone.”

At his words, Lysandra felt her throat tighten slightly. He was so genuine, so adamant that she couldn’t help her emotions bubbling to the surface. She refused to cry again today, so she decided it was time to change the subject.

“I appreciate it, Aedion,” she replied quietly. Then, “It feels nice to talk to you like this— almost feels natural again.”

His golden brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Aedion, think about it... We were so natural and relaxed before the meeting in the war room, and ever since we became contractually obligated to one another, it’s been different.”

His eyes turned up and to the side as he considered. “I suppose you’re right. To be fair, we’re in a very odd circumstance.”

He smiled then, nothing but a simple upturn on one side of his mouth. Lysandra resisted the urge to reach out with her free hand and run her thumb over that smile.

She chuckled. “You’ll get no argument from me on that. I never said it’s not understandable. I just liked us better before, when we were more friendly and less formal. We had a lot of fun. At least, I did, anyway.”

Lysandra looked down at their hands, suddenly sheepish.

“Hey,” he murmured, curling the fingers of his free hand beneath her chin to lift it. “You weren’t the only one who had fun at the gala. I enjoyed every second of you stepping on my feet.”

The two of them shared a laugh at Lysandra’s lack of formal dance training. Aedion was the first to recover and continue their conversation.

“Why don’t we pick up from there?” he asked as he stood. He pulled her hand to encourage her to stand as well.

“What?” she asked through a laugh.

“That was the last thing we did before we exposed ourselves,” he explained. “Let’s pick up where we left off, yeah?”

Aedion stopped in the middle of her living room, pulled his phone from his pocket, and turned on proper music for dancing. Suddenly, Lysandra was pulled through a spin, and the prince was reaching gently for her waist. She settled into the proper position, yet she realized they stood a hair closer than the night before.

“Thank you. This is a good distraction from my day,” she said quietly, looking up at the handsome angles of his face.

She felt his fingers squeeze her waist gently in acknowledgment, but when he spoke, the mirth of his tone didn’t quite match the gesture.

“Oh, you thought I did this for you?” He grinned, looking down to meet her gaze. “If you and I are to be dancing partners for the foreseeable future, you need some additional practice. My toes can only take so much.”

Lysandra’s jaw dropped slightly, but she felt nothing but humor coming from her partner.

“Snob,” she breathed incredulously.

Aedion threw his head back as he laughed, and she hadn’t realized how much she enjoyed the sound. She definitely didn’t appreciate it enough the night before. When he looked down at her, he wore a broad smile across his face.

Her lips stretched without a thought, returning his smile with a genuine one of her own. In a moment of boldness, she moved from her current position to wrap her arm around his shoulder; hand resting on the spot where his neck met his shoulder and her cheek against his chest. Tension radiated through her as she awaited his reaction, and she was immediately comforted when his arm wrapped fully around her waist.

Aedion continued to lead them as they danced, their footwork becoming more and more casual until they were only swaying side to side together. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, his hand still cradling hers as they moved. Minutes passed before he spoke, the sound rumbling through his chest against her cheek.

“I think it’s my turn to ask a question,” he murmured. “I still have a lot to learn about you, my friend.”

“Mmm,” she hummed from her spot on his chest. She was too content to move. “Do your worst,” she dared him.

They continued on like that for an unknown amount of time, exchanging questions in their game from the night before. Eventually, Lysandra felt her alertness dwindling by the second, and Aedion noticed almost immediately. Much to her disappointment, he pulled her gently away from his body.

“Let’s get you to bed. Otherwise, I’ll have to hold you entirely while we dance.”

Lysandra rubbed at her eyes, resenting the way she felt like a small child. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to me,” she pouted.

A chuckle sounded from Aedion. “Maybe not, but you wouldn’t learn a thing. Plus, we have an early meeting with the court tomorrow. Come on,” he encouraged.

He steadied her with an arm around her shoulders, and she found that she savored the contact. She blamed her sleep-addled brain for feeling that way, her cuddling instincts roaring to the surface. Lysandra led them to her room, where Aedion pulled back her covers and fluffed her pillow.

She melted into the bed, but before she could reach down to pull her covers, she felt them eased over her. Aedion tucked the blanket gently around her before standing up to walk away.

“Night, Lys,” he whispered.

“You’re not staying?” The question left her before she thought better of it, but she was grateful that her tone didn’t drip of desperation. That would have been mortifying.

Affection ran through her as she watched the prince freeze and stumble over his words. She decided to save him from himself; only fair after the support he demonstrated all evening.

“I’m not going to sprawl across this bed while my guest crams themselves onto the couch,” she prodded, throwing his words at him from the night before.

A scoff worked its way from Aedion. “You’re impossible,” he muttered. He grabbed his night clothes from a duffel bag and went into the bathroom to change, leaving the door propped open so that he could still hear her.

“Me?! Aedion, we shared a bed literally one night ago. Get over yourself, your Highness.”

That earned a laugh, thank the Gods. After the words left her, she feared he would be offended by the use of his standing in her joke. Lysandra felt the other side of the blankets moving back, and her nerves increased at the thought that she was making him uncomfortable.

“Either way, come lie down. If you’re more comfortable with sleeping separately, I’ll sleep on the couch when we stay here. I don’t mean to pressure you,” she rambled, already sitting up.

“Now who’s being overly polite?” he teased.

He rolled quickly toward her, wrapping his strong arm around her waist and pulling her back into the bed fully. The motion took her by surprise, and an embarrassing squeal left her mouth. Aedion released her, settling back onto his back.

“Lie down, and sleep, Lysandra,” he insisted, a smile evident in his words.

“Fine,” she muttered stubbornly, before closing her eyes and drifting off.


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took my a little longer than I wanted for me to post this update, but I hope y’all enjoy it. I cut it into two chapters because it was on the lengthy side, so Part 6 should be up much sooner!

The first meeting with the Court of Terrasen had been mostly uneventful. Lysandra gave the others the same overview of the mission debrief she had delivered to Lorcan and Aedion, answering questions as concisely as possible when asked. The majority of the questions came from the twins, Connall and Fenrys, since they were busy running diversions the night of the mission itself and missed the court’s meeting.

The Moonbeams, or the Wolves as they’d been coded, introduced quite an interesting dynamic to the court. There was something enigmatic about the pair; two individuals in the truest sense for all their differences, but somehow entirely in sync with each other’s thoughts and actions in a way that clearly demonstrated a lifetime of close familiarity. Where Connall was reserved, leaning intense in his seriousness, his brother was all jest and charm. Fenrys’ personality was one that filled the volume of any room he was in, no matter the size, and his presence was further enhanced by attractive physical features that could be summed up as _beautiful_.

Connall was no slouch either, Lysandra noticed, but she assessed his handsomeness as subtle and classic; the kind of attractive that may fly under the radar initially, only to knock one off their feet much later. He had introduced himself to Lysandra politely in that first meeting together, and when he asked any questions, his tone remained even and respectful. To his contrast, Fenrys was vocal and bold, treating her with an informality that made her feel as though they had known each other for years. The blond was a shameless flirt, but Lysandra appreciated that he remained respectful through it all. Interacting with the two of them sent Lysandra down a train of thought that upon their conception, some divine creator had seen Fenrys’ larger than life persona and felt compelled to design Connall as his counterweight; not trusting chance with ensuring balance where Fenrys was concerned.

Weeks passed after that meeting, the only discussion surrounding the mission done through cryptic messages from court member to court member. She wasn’t sure that she was really considered as such, but decided she was more a member of the court than she wasn’t. Working both sides of this mission was odd, making her feel as though she didn’t quite belong anywhere despite being everywhere for everyone.

She and Aedion woke that morning to a message from Lorcan, calling a court meeting at 9AM. Lysandra scrambled to rearrange the day’s schedule of meetings, mainly interviews to chase certain leads and debriefs with Arobynn. Their administrative assistant, Annie, had been gracious enough to help her move things around on such short notice; reminding her that not everyone she worked with was the worst. She made a mental note to send her a coffee in thanks.

The timing was opportune considering she had a minor update for the rest of them, but she wasn’t sure how relevant they would find the information. The answer would come shortly, she supposed, as she slipped into an empty seat next to Lorcan. She bumped his shoulder with her own as she sat heavily in the chair, his only acknowledgment of her presence being a tired grunt.

“Uh oh. Are we in for a treat this morning?” she teased.

Lorcan looked at her through his side eye, a smirk finally creeping up at the corner of his mouth. “Are you insinuating that I’m ever not a treat, Lys?”

A giggle left her at that, mostly because he definitely knew the answer to that question.

“That hurts my feelings, I’ll have you know,” he taunted dryly before taking a long swig of his black coffee.

“I didn’t say a word,” she replied, settling deeper into her chair.

She hadn’t slept especially well the night before. Her brain had been preoccupied with the potential encounters she was meant to have this morning; if only she would have known it was a waste of her mental energy.

Her eyes slid over to Aedion out of habit to find him talking animatedly with Rowan. She watched them for a moment, but admittedly, her interest was held predominantly by the blond man with whom she spending the majority of her time. Things were going really well; the two of them falling into a routine of sorts over the last several weeks. Each day she felt like she knew him better and better and would even go as far as calling him her friend after all they shared.

To her horror, Aedion caught her red-handed in her daydream. He offered a broad smile her way as he sat down, and she adamantly ignored the flutter in her chest at the action.

“Alright, let’s get started since we’re all here,” Lorcan began, his voice assuming an authoritative quality now that he led the meeting. “Anyone have anything to report?”

“It’s been fairly quiet,” Connall responded. “I heard rumors of some discord among the Lords, but we haven’t been able to confirm them yet. The subject of the rumored conflict remains unclear, as well.”

“Do we think Chaol could assist in gaining that information?” Aelin asked.

Connall grimaced. “I was trying to avoid involving another party, but we can consider it. Give me a little more time,” he requested.

Aelin only nodded, content with his rationale.

“I have something,” Lysandra announced, sitting up slightly in her chair. “Harding was meant to have a late meeting today with Arobynn regarding one of his mission assignments. Yesterday, I overheard him muttering to Tern that it had been cancelled suddenly. He was venting about his wasted time, and Tern finally asked if he knew why our boss rescheduled. Apparently, Arobynn was invited to dinner with Lord Darrow tonight at 6; at The Ferian. At least, that’s what he overheard Arobynn telling his assistant so that his schedule could be properly adjusted.”

Those around the table nodded as they took in the information and mulled it over. Lysandra could see that some may not see any true relevance to this news, but a couple of them were carefully considering what she shared.

“Forgive me if this seems like a stupid question; what does it matter that Arobynn and Darrow meet up? We already know they work closely together,” Fenrys offered.

To Lysandra’s surprise, it was Rowan who spoke next. He often deferred to Aelin first, but he immediately countered with a question of his own.

“Why wouldn’t he brief his team of the meeting?” There was no provocation in his voice, just clear curiosity that urged the group to consider the detail.

Aelin’s eyes glimmered with something like pride as she regarded him, a soft smile on her lips.

“Because he’s hiding something,” she added. “If the content of that meeting was aligned with what Arobynn has already shared with his agents, he would have one or more of them there for safety purposes. It’s curious that he didn’t ask anyone to join him or to be parked outside in case he has need of a quick exit.”

The princess’ gaze slid to Lysandra, her expression communicating a certain kinship between the two of them. The women knew Hamel best, and Aelin was recruiting her to hypothesize on his motives as the most valuable resource in the room. A devious smile took residence on Lysandra’s face as she realized what she was doing. If people found the two of them frightening as enemies, it was only because they had never entertained the possibility of them coming together as allies.

“Arobynn only knows self-preservation, so Aelin begs an interesting question. Why would he go alone?” Her face turned up toward the ceiling as she worked the riddle, her knee bouncing as she thought. “The only thing I can think of now is that he was ordered show up alone.”

A flash of realization shined through Aelin’s eyes. “Darrow instructed him to go alone. Otherwise, he would have a web of contingency plans by now. If he thinks it could create a problem or offend Darrow, that would be the only reason he would honor the request.”

Lorcan grunted his support of the theory, his eyes sliding around the table to gauge the others.

“I wonder if this meeting would have anything to do with the rumors of discord,” Connall mused. “Perhaps Arobynn is involved with the disagreement.”

Lysandra had been awaiting Aedion’s perspective, but he’d yet to offer it. He was often one of the last to weigh in during the meetings, preferring to digest the information as a whole before making an assessment. His smooth voice snapped her attention in his direction, a little surprised at his early participation.

“How do you feel about a date tonight?” he nearly purred.

Lysandra learned more everyday about what made Aedion so successful in winning the charms of others. His voice rolled over her skin with painful gentleness, and she was grateful that her body managed to avoid flushing at the sound of it. She snorted, leaning on humor as her defense.

“That depends. Do you plan to rip my clothes off this time?” she fired back, the falsest of bravado in her voice.

Aedion’s warm laugh sounded through the war room, his painfully beautiful blue eyes sparkling with mischief at her teasing.

“Only if you ask nicely,” he fired back with a wink.

Bastard.

“Care to invite us down your train of thought, Cousin? I assumed I was the most insufferable flirt in this family,” Aelin interrupted, much to Lysandra’s appreciation.

“Sure,” he began, totally unbothered by Aelin. “We call in a favor at the Ferian in order to get a reservation on short notice. We’ll find a way to initiate with them organically, and Lord Darrow will likely invite us to chat for a while. It would be in poor taste not to offer a drink to the Prince of Terrasen, so his manners will compel him to do so in front of others for appearances.”

“Your humility is an inspiration,” Aelin deadpanned. Aedion only rolled his eyes. “But you’re right. He wouldn’t dare feed the rumor mill by snubbing you publicly.”

“Wouldn’t he wonder about running into the two of you tonight? What if he becomes suspicious of Lysandra’s allegiance?” Fenrys asked.

“That’s a fair question, but I don’t think he’ll connect me to this. He doesn’t know he was overheard talking to Annie, and his schedule is strictly confidential. Annie wouldn’t dare share it, and even if he entertains the thought that he was overheard, I don’t think he’ll assume any of my colleagues would share that information with me. It would give them too much of an advantage with him.”

Fenrys seemed satisfied with that and leaned back casually in his chair. A familiar smirk graced his beautiful mouth, causing Lysandra to be on alert for whatever incorrigible thing would come out of it.

“I have to say I’m disappointed,” he replied lowly. “How am I supposed to take you out with me if Aedion’s got claim on your time tonight?”

She flicked her gaze to Aedion and noted the tension in his jaw. Deciding it best to make light of the situation, she trained her attention on Fenrys.

“You, as well as anyone else here, knows that when I’m not with Aedion, I’m on Lorcan’s arm. Sorry, Sunshine,” she replied dryly, gripping her friend’s forearm and adding a wink for good measure.

The blond wolf clutched at his chest in mock agony, screwing his eyes shut at her artful dismissal. She giggled at the sight, grateful for her growing comfort with this team. That’s what they were, she realized. A team. Her heart clutched a little as she remembered that her membership was temporary, but she brushed it aside.

“Don’t bring me into you three’s dalliances,” Lorcan ordered, but there was no true frustration behind it. He pulled his arm from Lysandra’s grip playfully, offering the smallest of smiles her way before returning to the meeting.

“Are we all in agreement of this plan? Aedion and Lysandra engage Darrow and Hamel at the Ferian. We’ll have you mic’ed up, and in the event that either of you feel threatened or that something isn’t right, you’ll work the code word in as quickly as possible. Connall and I will stage ourselves outside to listen in and serve as your back-up in case you need it.”

The team all nodded their heads, voting unanimously in favor of the prince’s plan. Lorcan ordered Rowan and Fenrys to stay behind at the estate; an additional layer of security in case Arobynn thought to be an opportunist. The commander ran through the plan once more in summary before moving to dismiss the team.

“Before we go— what’s the code word, Commander?” Aedion asked.

Lorcan was already half-standing and leaned forward on his hands as he considered. A wicked gleam shined in his eyes, and Lysandra knew that expression meant something menacing was about to roll off his tongue.

“Let’s go with ‘jealous’, yeah?” he said, before standing to his full height and walking out the door.

—

Aedion stayed behind at the estate in order to get ready properly for their “date”, so that meant Lorcan would be hovering while she got ready. Maybe the man wasn’t the type to hover, but she knew she would feel his presence acutely after his uncomfortable code word choice. For a man hellbent on being a lone wolf sometimes, he certainly knew how to insert his nose in matters that didn’t concern him.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded as she dropped into the passenger seat.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded with mock primness, his eyes fixed on the rear camera of the SUV.

“So you pulled ‘jealous’ right out of the ether? You didn’t aim to antagonize Aedion?”

She had grown a little weary of the ongoing tension between her guards.

“Woah, Ennar. You’re awfully defensive of your colleague,” he challenged. “I was just giving him a hard time. I meant nothing by it.”

Lysandra considered that for a moment.

“Did something happen between the two of you? It’s like neither of you can bear to pass up the opportunity to take a jab at the other.”

Lorcan’s brow scrunched in a look of confusion. “What would have happened between me and Aedion?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m asking,” she explained. “I mean, you and I haven’t really talked about how you identify, but I didn’t know if maybe there was history there or something. I thought maybe you two had...”

Lorcan’s eyes grew large as he gaped at her, looking back at the road quickly in order to keep the both of them safe.

“Gods, Lysandra. You thought I dated Aedion?”

“Not necessarily— it could have been just sex,” she mused.

Judging by Lorcan’s reaction, she was off the mark. It was possible that their tension was the result of two men with very strong personalities being forced together constantly, but it was a question that had plagued her for some time now. Lysandra wasn’t sure that the world could successfully survive a couple that incredibly good looking, so it was probably for the best that she was wrong.

A half-smile stretched across Lorcan’s face. “No sex and no dating. Ashryver’s not really my type, and I don't think for a second that it's me the prince is jealous over,” he replied.

“I’m sorry if I offended you by asking, I just—”

“You didn’t,” he chuckled. “I can’t claim that I’ve never experienced a man, but I find that I’m more attracted to women overall. When I say he’s not my type, it’s more that he looks a little too much like Aelin. Objectively, Aelin is beautiful, but she’s also the bane of my existence most days.”

That earned a laugh from Lysandra. “Why did you have to say that out loud? It’s not like I didn’t know they look alike, but now I’m going to be in my head all night thinking about it.”

“Don’t blame me that you brought this up and ended up hurting your own feelings with it,” he said through a laugh.

“What is your type, then?”

“Are you offering or something?” Another cocky smirk from her prick of a friend.

“Ew, no,” she replied, almost too quickly. She hadn’t meant any offense by it, but she couldn’t fathom seeing Lorcan that way. “I’m just doing my homework in case you ever need a wingman. I don’t want to waste my time with the wrong people.”

Lorcan huffed a laugh. “While I appreciate it, I don’t think I’ll need a wingman. But since you woke up with the curiosity of a child today, I’ll offer you this: I’m a sucker for short women.”

Lysandra gawked at that. “What?! You’re huge!”

Lorcan brushed off her pointing out of the obvious, changing the subject to the night's mission. They speculated on how Lord Darrow and Arobynn would react to the evening's plan, throwing out several theories until they were laughing with increasingly ridiculous versions. As counterproductive as it felt, it was the perfect way for Lysandra to stay out of her head and get ready to face the job at hand.

—

"You look... wow," Aedion breathed when Lysandra opened the door to her apartment.

Her dark tresses were loose, cascading in waves down her back. She wore a black, tea-length dress, cut to follow her frame without hugging too closely to her curves. The rounded neckline of the dress dropped low enough to tease at her form beneath without revealing too much and was framed by two straps that exposed the delicate lines of her shoulders. She had finished her look with a chic pair of black plumps and a red lip; the same lip she had worn the night this mission began.

"You clean up well yourself," she beamed as she accepted his arm. His scent enveloped her as they walked down to the car, and she shamelessly breathed him in. "You styled your hair down tonight. I like it."

The prince ran a hand through his blond locks, looking sheepish at the compliment. This struck Lysandra as almost comical considering she knew he wasn't lacking on the compliment front. Even the local newspapers commented on his looks regularly.

"Oh, yeah. Thanks. It wasn't willing to be tamed into a hair-tie today, so this is the best I could do."

Lysandra twirled some of the strands around her index finger as she considered his words. They had arrived at the backseat of the SUV, and Aedion regarded her as he held the door open.

"Well, I'm glad for that, I think. You're quite handsome like this," she mused, unsure of when she decided to be so loose-lipped with her partner tonight. She punctuated the compliment by running the pads of her fingers over the knot of his tie before turning to climb into the vehicle.

"Keep it in your pants, Ennar," Lorcan jabbed playfully. "We haven't even left yet."

"Fuck off, Lorcan," she retorted, relishing in the sensation that Aedion's warm laugh caused to course through her body.

"Such language for a lady," he teased, turning toward them from the passenger seat.

"I'm no lady."

Lorcan handed a tiny earpiece to Aedion, and he started fixing it into his ear. Lorcan waved Lysandra forward, and she scooted up per his request. He raised a large hand to tuck a lock of Lysandra's hair behind her ear, taking special care to be gentle as he turned her chin with his thumb and forefinger to expose the side he planned to work on. He fussed slightly with the baby hairs around her ear so that they didn't wrap around the earpiece before he was interrupted.

"Alright, I think we've got it. Thanks, Commander," Aedion announced, plucking the earpiece from Lorcan's fingers.

Lysandra turned her face forward yet again, her eyes landing on Lorcan's in the front seat as Aedion finished placing her earpiece. He gave her a mirthful wink as if he'd proven some kind of point and gestured toward her clutch. She handed it over with a subtle scowl, watching as he strategically placed an equally tiny microphone within.

Connall drove toward the restaurant, stoic in the way he usually was, as he detailed the plan. He and Lorcan would remain parked outside as security of the royal family and would only check in with the two of them as necessary to update them on Darrow and Arobynn's movements. He let them know that the mic was meant to pick up on anything relevant said by the two men and to be mindful of the placement when they engaged them. This would allow him and Lorcan the ability to transcribe anything they overheard rather than Lysandra and Aedion having to remember everything that was said.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Aedion climbed out first and offered his hand to Lysandra. She took it gratefully, scanning over his shoulder to gain her bearings. There were people holding the restaurant doors open and hostesses awaiting their approach; something Lysandra doubted happened for just anyone. It was a solid reminder of her partner's life as a member of nobility and the number of eyes on them as a result.

"Your Highness," the hostess announced with a small curtsey. "Miss."

Lysandra nodded her head in greeting, leaning heavily into Aedion for moral support. All this posturing felt incredibly foreign to her, even though she spent much of her life playing a part. This was another level being required of her.

"Good evening," Aedion purred, charming as ever. "I appreciate the acceptance of our reservation on short notice."

The woman looked as if she may pass out. "Oh, of course. We're delighted to have you. And your friend. Please, follow me."

She turned hurriedly to escort them to a small circle booth in a more secluded area of The Ferian. Aedion lowered Lysandra's hand from his arm, choosing instead to lace their fingers together as they walked through the restaurant. Her heart thundered at the action; at the intimacy of it and the statement she knew it made. If anyone looking at them doubted them and assumed him to be a polite escort of a friend or family member, that was no longer true.

Lysandra slid into the booth with Aedion close behind her. They sat closely together behind the circular table, scanning the restaurant and their menus periodically. She was acutely aware of the attention on them and found herself blushing under everyone's focus.

"I think I forgot that this is your life," she began. "How do you tune out all these eyes all the time?"

"It still gets to me sometimes, but you get used to it," Aedion responded nonchalantly, eyes never leaving his menu. He lifted the arm closest to her to rest in on the booth behind her, finally glancing up to look at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "I feel like we blended in much better at the gala is all."

A deep chuckle from Aedion. "There are so many self-important people at those events that they wouldn't dare look at anyone else," he joked.

"We have eyes on Lord Darrow," Connall announced through their earpieces, causing Lysandra to stiffen in surprise. "No sight of Hamel yet."

"Game time," Aedion announced with a smile, his bright eyes scanning her face for something unknown.

"Now or never," she agreed, peering up into his face with a smile of her own.

He dropped his gaze to her lap and gently grabbed her clutch. Setting it at the end of their seat behind him, he turned to her more fully.

"Before we get into it, I just wanted to say..." he trailed off for a couple of seconds. "I'm glad it's you here with me."

Lysandra dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap, suddenly shy under his attention. He curled a finger beneath her chin, lifting it gently to look at him again.

"I'm glad, too," she managed quietly.

Aedion's thumb ran softly over her cheek, and she swore his eyes landed on her lips more than once. Before she could talk herself out of it, he was leaning toward her, his lips mere inches away.

"Excuse me— Oh, I'm sorry!" Their attention whipped toward two girls, no older than 14, that were standing across the table.

"No need to apologize," Aedion replied nicely as he oriented his body more fully toward them. "Are you alright?"

"Of course," the first girl sputtered. "Are you Prince Aedion Ashryver?"

The second girl looked as though she may cry, and Lysandra couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for the two of them. Her heart clenched as she thought of Evangeline, wondering if she would react the same way to meeting the man next to her. She didn't expect Aedion to be anything less than accommodating, but he greeted them with a warmth that touched her.

"I am, but I prefer if you call me Aedion— Oh, no need to do that," he insisted, as the two of them immediately bent to curtsey.

His reaction only made to confuse them further, unsure of how to react to such informality. He offered a good-natured chuckle at their behavior, affection turning his turquoise eyes even brighter.

"That's all very stuffy, don't you agree?" he asked them, scrunching his nose.

They anxiously nodded their heads, suddenly struck to silence.

"This is my friend, Olivia," he said, gesturing to Lysandra.

They muttered that it was nice to meet her, the most they'd managed since Aedion opened his mouth. It was precious.

"Um— I was going to see if you would take a picture," the second girl nearly whispered. "But I'm afraid we bothered you."

"You absolutely didn't," Aedion announced adamantly. "I'm sure Olivia wouldn't mind snapping one. Would you?"

"Of course not! Here, take my seat," she said as she scooted out.

The young girl slid into the booth soon after she got up, her friend sliding in on the other side. Lysandra snapped a couple of shots with the girl's phone, making sure the lighting was appropriate as to not ruin what felt like a monumental moment in their young lives. Once finished, they repeated their thanks over and over as they hurried away.

"That was so adorable," she said as she eased next to him. "You were very sweet to them."

Aedion's cheeks were tinted the lightest pink. "It was nothing. They were nice girls," he replied, brushing her off.

The waitress approached then, taking their orders for wine and offering the specials. Aedion ordered a bottle for them to share, and asked for several minutes before they ordered food. Before the waitress left them to decide, he gestured to the table where the two girls were now seated with their families and insisted on covering their bill.

"Just tell them it was covered by a friend if they ask," he finished, turning toward Lysandra once more.

She thought he aimed to start back where they had left off as he eased his finger beneath her chin again. Her heart thundered in her chest at his closeness and at the light caress of his thumb over her cheek, but his words brought her immediately back to earth.

"Over my shoulder, 9 o'clock. Darrow has a table, still no Arobynn."

She cleared her throat. "Your 9 or mine?"

He looked toward the ceiling as he considered. "I guess mine since I'm facing you now. Your 3 o'clock," he laughed.

"I see him— and from the look on his face, he sees us, too." Aedion's hand left her face, reaching for the wine glass the waitress had silently delivered. He's coming over," she announced, mirroring his action to take a long pull of her own wine.

"That's okay," he assured her. "It's a formality of rank, is all. Please don't judge me too harshly."

Before she could ask him for what, he was standing to greet Lord Darrow. The lord dropped into a deep bow, and Aedion only nodded in response. The acceptance of the formality didn't reconcile with the man she had come to know.

"Your Highness. How nice to run into you here," Lord Darrow greeted.

"Indeed," he replied dryly, extending his hand toward her. "May I introduce you to my friend, Olivia?"

Lysandra stood, tucking herself tightly to Aedion's side. Lord Darrow's eyes roved over her in assessment as if he knew she wasn't of noble blood, but she refused to shrink under his clear gaze.

"Olivia, this is Lord Darrow. Darrow, this is Miss Olivia." He offered her hand toward the lord, and he took it softly in his. He bowed to place a kiss on the back of it, and it took everthing in her to not cringe at the contact.

"It's very nice to meet you, Lord Darrow," she greeted politely as she moved to place her arm around Aedion's waist.

She discreetly wiped the back of her palm on Aedion's jacket and glanced up to see his jaw flickering in his attempt not to laugh. The three of them made polite conversation; frankly, some of the most boring of Lysandra's short life, until Lord Darrow excused himself.

"Forgive me, but I must take my leave. Promise to come by my table before you leave so that I may buy the two of you a drink," he mentioned as he bowed to Aedion once more. "Please, I insist."

"We would be glad to pass by," Aedion accepted politely with the faintest bow of his own. "I appreciate your kindness toward me and my lovely Olivia."

Lysandra resented how much she liked how those words sounded, only to end with the wrong name. She quickly schooled herself into the image of someone bewitched by her companion as they said their goodbyes and slid back into the booth. The waitress came over to take their order, and they ate their meal with nothing remarkable happening outside of Arobynn's arrival. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed the two of them as he moved through the restaurant, and Lysandra was happy to delay the inevitable for a little longer in favor of enjoying her time with Aedion. He made mention of her subtle handwipe on his jacket from earlier, the two of them buzzed on wine and laughing about the encounter.

"It was your fault! You're the one that offered my hand over like some prize," she insisted as she took another sip of her wine. She pretended not to notice Aedion's attention on her mouth as she placed it around the glass.

"I was only presenting you properly. It comes with the gig, I'm afraid. You signed the contract," he retorted playfully.

"That must have been in the fine print," she defended. "The only mouth I knowingly agreed to have on me in that contract was yours."

The words were out before she realized what they implied, but she decided to stand behind them. Surely the prince could handle such humor. She was a little concerned when he set his glass down on the table with more force that necessary, but his dilated pupils told her that it wasn't anger that motivated him.

"I'm honored," he said, his voice low and raspier than before. A small smirk graced his face before he added, "Just tell me when and where."

"You pig!" Lysandra exclaimed, playfully jabbing him with her elbow as he laughed. She joined him, remembering how much she enjoyed the sound of his laughter until they both recovered.

"You ready to make our way over there?" he asked dryly, almost as if he felt the same way she did about leaving their comfortable bubble.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, grabbing her clutch and accepting his hand as she climbed from the booth.

The wine rushed to her head as soon as she was standing, and she clutched Aedion's hand tighter for support. He smiled down at her fondly before letting her hand go and wrapping his arm around her waist, his hand resting low on her hip. She loved the warmth that seeped into her at the contact but quickly warned herself she shouldn't get too comfortable. This was a job, a very temporary one at that. She needed to keep her wits about her, especially for this coming encounter.

She couldn't afford to fall for the prince of Terrasen.


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): suggestive dialogue, mature themes, strong language

"Your Highness," Lord Darrow greeted politely as he stood to bow.

Lysandra watched as Arobynn's eyes grew three times their regular size while he assessed them, truly shocked to see the two of them at The Ferian. He stood along with Lord Darrow to bow to Aedion, and the prince repeated the same introduction between her and Arobynn as he had with Darrow. Her boss recovered from his surprise to introduce himself gracefully before they all sat together, and Darrow ordered a bottle of wine for the table.

Aedion launched into comfortable conversation, demonstrating his proclivity for diplomacy and a lifetime of shaping his social skills. Lysandra marveled at his ability to carry a conversation, even with two men with whom she knew he had zero interest in socializing. Buzzed from the wine she had already consumed with dinner, she felt little apprehension about leaning into his side and looping her arm around his, his hand resting on her knee. He shot her a warm smile at her affection, nearly missing his cue to speak in the conversation.

"You seem quite smitten with Miss Olivia," Lord Darrow remarked as he eyed the two of them.

"I'm afraid you're right, Darrow," Aedion replied casually, turning his face back toward Lysandra's.

He traced his index finger down the bridge of her nose for good measure, causing her to scrunch her nose in response. His pupils dilated once again when they made eye contact, and she knew her own were doing the same if her heightened pulse was any indication. Without putting too much thought into it, she pressed a chaste kiss to the pad of his finger before he turned his attention back to the men.

"I'm surprised we've seen no announcement of your official courtship," Lord Darrow continued, causing Aedion to tense slightly. "That wouldn't be because she's not been identified as a fit partner, would it?"

Lysandra flinched imperceptibly at the clear slight, but she refused to react. Too many times had she been assessed in such a manner for her to find true offense in his prejudice. Truthfully, she worried more about Aedion's reaction, him not being the type to take such insults lightly. Announcing their courtship was something they hadn't discussed at this point, but it was likely that the court hadn't seen any relevance considering Aedion had dated plenty of people casually. She was going to let him take the lead on this one.

"Fuck him, Lys." Lorcan's deep voice came through her earpiece, and even though she was feeling okay, his additional support was very welcome.

"On the contrary, Darrow," Aedion replied, his voice sharper than it had been previously. "I would have announced our courtship the very day I met her if she would have me."

The smile he gave her made her heart jump, but all she could do was smile back.

"That's interesting," Arobynn interjected. "Why wouldn't you two want to make things known between you?"

Of course this suddenly piqued his interests. Of all the times and places, Arobynn Hamel would choose right now to test Lysandra and how well she'd laid the foundation of her role with the prince. It had been too simple to assume he actually had a modicum of faith in her all this time.

"It can be overwhelming," she began, doing her best to play coy. "All the attention on us; it intimidates me."

"I keep telling her I'll shield her to the ends of the earth from all that nonsense, but she's adamant," Aedion added, running his thumb over her knee in comfort. He was doing incredibly well in selling his role as the smitten prince to the both of them, that was for sure.

"I know," she cooed affectionately.

"What she won't tell you, because she's modest, is that she's quite the successful liaison for some of the larger stakeholders in Terrasen," he praised, turning his attention to her. "I can understand her apprehension. It's possible that her accounts would question her objectivity if she was publicly involved with a member of the royal family."

"That's fair. I, for one, would be incredibly apprehensive that she was delivering biased information with such a conflict of interest. I believe that to be a quite logical idea," Arobynn replied, seemingly satisfied with their answers.

"See? I told you," Lysandra murmured quietly to Aedion.

His only response was a long kiss to her forehead; the sensation of his lips against her skin causing heat to course through her.

"Okay, they're clearly not going to talk about anything relative to Aelin with you two present. See if you can take a short leave and manage to leave the clutch at the table," Connall instructed, pulling her attention abruptly back to their task.

Lysandra cleared her throat as she considered the best way to slip away. "Love?" Aedion's eyes met her own. "I'm going to head to the restroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

Aedion only nodded as she slid from the table and walked toward the hallway marked with the restroom sign. She hoped he would read her mind when she took a little while to return and excuse himself to come after her, but if not, she knew he would figure out his own way. Since she was already there, she took her time using the restroom and refreshing her hair before stepping out. Her prince stood in the hallway, hands in his pockets, while he waited.

"Hey," he greeted as he walked toward her. "They asked if you were alright, so I told them I would come check."

She was standing against the wall next to the bathroom door, his closer proximity warming her in the best way. Aedion removed his hand from his pocket to trace the line of her shoulder and down her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"I'm sorry if what Darrow said bothered you. I could have throttled him," he said, hooking his fingers around her wrist and sliding them into her palm.

Lysandra gave them a reassuring squeeze as she straightened his tie with her free hand.

"Men like that don't bother me, Aed. But it's sweet that you care to check."

"Of course I care— I care about _you_ , Lys," he insisted, his voice quiet and as earnest as she had ever heard him.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and she saw nothing but genuine concern across the lines of his face. His other hand left his pocket to cup the side of her neck, his thumb continuing its ministrations across her cheek as it had earlier in the night. Lysandra swallowed thickly at the tension between them, thinking she may die right here if she didn't find out how it felt to have his lips pressed against hers. The wine flowing through her bloodstream did nothing to censor how she was feeling, effectively rendering any logic useless.

She pulled him down gently by the lapel of his jacket, their noses brushing along the other's. Aedion rested his forehead against hers, and she released her grip on his hand to slip her arm beneath his jacket. He was so solid and warm beneath it; better than she had allowed herself to imagine, and she couldn't help but hold him tightly to her for fear that he would disappear. So many nights of time spent together, playful hip bumps, dancing in the living room, and bed sharing came roaring to the surface, fueling a need for him she had skillfully ignored to this point.

Aedion rested his weight on his forearm near her head, but he leaned into her just enough to set her on fire. She felt the ghost of his lips against her own before she tilted her head up, claiming his more fully than before. His fingers tightened on the side of her neck as he angled his mouth over hers per her invitation, a low groan rumbling through his broad chest.

"Is this okay?" he whispered against her lips.

All she could manage was a vigorous nod before resuming their kiss, her body pressed tightly against his own. The prince leaned more of his weight against her, and Lysandra could feel herself quickly coming undone for him. The desire to have his hips pressed into hers was consuming her, and she cursed the tight silhouette of her dress for making it so difficult.

A small voice in the back of her head cautioned her that Aedion may be motivated by liquid courage and the shameless flirtation they'd engaged in all night, but she couldn't bring herself to care. When he brought his arm around her waist to pull her tightly into him, that very voice was entirely muted. She gasped softly against his lips, and he delicately traced the opening of her mouth with a slip of his tongue.

" _Shit_ , Lysandra," he muttered against her mouth, before pressing his lips hungrily to hers.

Hearing her name, her real name, rolling off his tongue pulled a soft whimper from deep in her chest, and it only served to encourage her partner. Her body was burning, her blood singing at finally getting a taste of him. She lost herself in the moment before Aedion reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead to hers.

"We need to get the hell out of here," he whispered, earning a soft laugh from Lysandra.

As if on cue, Connall's voice sounded in their earpieces again; letting them know they believed they had captured some important information but that the men had started to wonder aloud about their location. Aedion pulled away from her as if it physically pained him, using his thumb to clean up her lipstick as he did the night they met. She laughed as she noticed the smears across his mouth and used her thumbs to do the same.

"There; all clean," she murmured.

He offered her a soft, affectionate smile before grabbing her hand and leading her back to the table. They slid into their seats again and made excuses of a long line in the bathrooms before slipping back into shallow conversation. Aedion's hand found its original placement on her knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over it. Lysandra couldn't claim she wasn't relieved when Darrow announced he needed to head home.

The two of them walked hand-in-hand to the SUV parked outside, and Aedion helped her climb into the backseat. She stumbled in; the effects of the many glasses of wine and the absence of any adrenaline. The two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles as they settled into their seats, totally unaware of the incredulous looks from Lorcan and Connall.

"Are both of you drunk?" Lorcan asked, amusement starting to show itself in his gaze.

"You're drunk," Lysandra fired back weakly. "I'm just tired."

"Sure thing, Ennar," Lorcan replied before turning back around in his seat.

Her head was suddenly too heavy, so she used her hand to prop it up on the door's armrest. It seemed as though Connall hit every single bump in the road on the way back to her apartment, causing her head to jostle violently every other second and pulling a long groan from her. Aedion gripped her hand and tugged softly to encourage her to sit up, gesturing toward his lap as he pulled her toward him. She readily accepted the invitation, wiggling down into the seat and making herself comfortable on his thigh. He gently moved her hair away from her face and neck and let her locks fall across his lap. When she felt his strong fingers start to massage her scalp, she was completely gone.

—

Lysandra was vaguely aware of being lifted from her seat in the SUV and being pulled tightly into a strong chest. She snuggled into it, content to be carried, until she realized there was something a little wrong about the man's scent. The verbal exchange she overheard helped her put two and two together.

"You don't need to do that. I can manage, Salvaterre."

"Please. You're just as drunk as she is. The last thing we need is for both of you to end up injured because you tumbled down the stairs to her apartment," Lorcan fired back. "Settle down, Ashryver. I've got her."

Lysandra opened one eye to take in her surroundings, noting the strong lines of Lorcan's face above her. She lifted her hand to tap his nose with her index finger, making a soft "boop" sound at the contact. Lorcan blinked rapidly at the intrusion and scowled down at her as he walked.

"Stop that. If you're awake enough to be a shithead, you can walk," he demanded.

"Mm, no," she decided, tucking her arm into her chest again.

She was a model passenger for the rest of the climb to her apartment. Aedion fished her key out of her clutch to let the three of them inside before Lorcan deposited Lysandra on top of her covers.

"I'll let you take it from here, Aedion," he remarked. "Connall is heading back. I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight."

"I don't think both of us need to be here, Lorcan. We'll be fine."

"I hear you, but tonight would be the perfect night to make a move on you two drunkards," he replied. "Oh... I didn't mean to be so presumptuous. Do you normally sleep on the couch?"

There was a beat of silence, neither of the men saying a word, until Aedion cleared his throat.

"Night, Lorcan," he said finally, followed by the soft shutting of her bedroom door.

Lysandra blinked her eyes open to find Aedion, the fog of sleep finally starting to wear off slightly. Clearly she had been more tired than she realized with how deeply she'd fallen asleep in the car. She sat up to take off her shoes and jewelry, depositing them unceremoniously on the floor and bedside table, respectively. Tempted to slip right under the covers, dress and all, she eyed the comforter seriously.

"Don't even think about it," Aedion joked. "You'll be mad at yourself if you don't get ready for bed."

"Why do I feel like you're always having to put me to bed somehow?" she retorted.

"It's a common theme, now that you mention it. Come brush your teeth with me." When she only looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language, he stretched out a hand. "Please? For me."

"That's really unfair," she muttered, forcing herself to her feet and taking his hand.

There was something so incredibly domestic about all of it, she thought, that she could almost forget that they just left one phase of their mission. Her heart squeezed at the idea that she could have this type of life someday, but she knew the likelihood was near zero. Evangeline deserved happiness and her best shot at life, and Lysandra wouldn't risk that for a daydream.

She immediately washed her face upon entering the bathroom, threw on her moisturizer, and was brushing her teeth in record time. Her eyes flitted to Aedion occasionally, and she couldn't help but admire how devastatingly handsome he was. She averted her eyes as he changed into his night clothes but turned back too quickly to find him standing there in his pajama pants and shirtless.

Fuck, his body was just as beautiful as it had felt when she held him earlier.

"Eyes on your own paper, Ennar," he teased, but he tugged her arm gently to pull her into him. He only hugged her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Lysandra felt something cool against her cheek, a clear contrast to the warmth of his body, and pulled her face back to investigate.

"You still wear your dog tags?" she asked, taking them delicately between her fingers.

"Um.. one of them. The other is—"

"Your dad's," she finished quietly for him, running the pad of her thumb over the letters. _Gavriel_.

"Yeah," he breathed as he looked down at her. "I never take them off, so I usually tuck them into my shirt. That's not weird is it?" His soft laugh didn't hold the joy it normally did, almost as if he worried about her judgment.

"Of course not. I think it's... wonderful."

Aedion seemed to relax at her words, his hands coming up to gently cup her face.

"Thank you," he breathed, before he softly pressed his lips to hers. "Look, I know we're both drunk or whatever, but what happened back at the restaurant... that's something I've wanted to do for weeks now. I don't want you to think I was abusing our roles tonight. And if it's not something you're okay with, I won't do it again."

"Shh," she insisted, pressing her index finger against his lips. "I would never think that of you, and I very much want you to do that again."

He laughed, a genuine laugh that time, and looked down at the floor as he considered. His boyish charm was showing itself in spades again, and Lysandra thought she could drown in him if he would let her.

"Not right now, though," he replied.

Lysandra pouted at that, although she knew he did the right thing and respected his decision fully. It didn't stop her from offering just a little torture at his chivalry.

"That's fine. But, will you unzip me?" she asked, turning around to expose the back of her dress.

Aedion let out a low curse at her question before gently tugging her zipper down as far as it would go. He pressed his lips where her neck met her shoulder, his warm breath killing her as he spoke.

"There. Now you get away from me," he ordered playfully before gently gripping her waist and ushering her forward. "I'm trying to be honorable here."

Lysandra couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled out of her as she padded to her room, leaving Aedion to stare longingly after her.

—

“Lysandra— did you hear me?” Annie asked, a look of concern on her face.

“Oh, yeah! I’m sorry. Just a little tired. I worked late last night.”

“I just brewed a fresh pot of coffee in the break room. Help yourself,” she offered with a smile. “Oh, and um. Arobynn asked to see you as soon as you’re free.”

Lysandra hated how her stomach dropped at the mention of her boss’ name these days. Working for him had conditioned her to wait on the second shoe to drop, but working both sides of this mission made her a bundle of nerves even on the best days. She nodded to Annie in confirmation, unsure of what to say in response.

She stood from her desk to stretch, trying to ready herself for whatever this last-minute conversation entailed. Her thoughts had been all over the place when Annie interrupted her, and she couldn’t exactly go into a meeting with Arobynn while thinking about how warm Aedion had been that morning.

When her alarm had gone off, she had awoken to Aedion splayed on his stomach, his arm thrown across her waist. It had been too tempting to shut off her alarm and call out for the day to delay disturbing him, but unfortunately, he had stirred at her alarm. The prince had apologized profusely for invading her side of the bed and jumped up before she had a chance to tell him how content she was.

Shaking her head quickly again, she steeled her nerves and knocked on Arobynn’s office door. He welcomed her quickly, gesturing to the chair across from his desk in a polite order to sit. Lysandra complied, smoothing her slacks over her thighs in order to busy her hands.

“I must admit, I expected it to take longer for us to cross paths as we did last night,” Arobynn began with a chuckle. “I was surprised to glance up from my meal and see you standing there.”

Lysandra relaxed a little at his humorous tone, hoping it wasn’t some trap to corner her into admitting she had known of his dinner plans.

“We bumped into Lord Darrow shortly after we arrived, and he insisted we stop by for a drink with him and his guest. I didn’t realize it would be you,” she replied, breathing a laugh toward the end of her statement.

A small smile twitched at the corner of Arobynn’s mouth, a sign of genuine amusement for the man.

“The Ashryver prince looks quite smitten with you.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I think so, too.”

“That bodes well for us. Nice work,” he remarked. “But while we’re talking about it, I do have one rather large concern.”

Her stomach dropped, her breakfast threatening to reappear on the floor in front of his mahogany desk.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. You looked just as enamored with him as he did with you. To a certain degree, that’s to be expected considering the nature of your assignment. But you see, you and I, we watch people for a living, and I couldn’t help having some trouble discerning what was genuine from the role you’re to be playing.”

Lysandra swallowed thickly, mustering as much bravado as she could.

“That’s a nonissue, Arobynn,” she lied. “I’m happy to know my performance was that convincing. You know my every tell like the back of your hand, so I’ll take your observation as a compliment.”

She wasn’t above flattery, especially in this particular conversation.

“I have no option but to trust you, pet.”

“I understand,” she replied meekly. “But I assure you, Aedion Ashryver is my assignment and nothing more.”

The words tasted like ash on her tongue.

“Good,” he concluded, changing the subject swiftly. “Now, I’m going to let you in on some information that Lord Darrow shared with me last night. I need you to understand that this is strictly confidential; in fact, I’m not at liberty to share this with the team. But since you’re spending so much time with the royal family, I want you to keep your ear to the ground, so to speak, for any information pertaining to what I’m about to tell you.”

“You have my word, Arobynn.”

The man nodded sharply before starting to speak again. “I’m sure by now you’re aware that Aelin has a close, personal relationship with the reigning King of Adarlan.

Lysandra nodded, knowing well of Aelin and King Dorian’s friendship.

“The lords are concerned that our trade agreement with Adarlan is only secure for a matter of time. They believe Aelin will capitalize on her friendship with the young king and negotiate a more aggressive deal, effectively removing any barriers to her potential ascension to the throne.”

Arobynn had shared the trade agreement with Lysandra many weeks ago when she had initiated her version of the mission. That way, she would know if she were to stumble across relevant information that needed to be shared with him as soon as possible, particularly if there was any talk of dissatisfaction.

“I’m confused. I thought they feared economic ruin and held that as the basis for their case against her standing. If she were capable of securing an economic future for Terrasen, why wouldn’t they vote to instate her as Queen?”

“It all seems very simple, I realize, but it’s more than the trade deal. Many of the lords of this land have grown used to a certain influence over Terrasen and have a taste for full autonomy of their territories. They don’t have confidence that Aelin has the skill set or disposition to rule this nation properly.”

“Okay,” she replied. “So, how do you come in then? In the absence of being their trade liaison?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you. They know her highness will work tirelessly to change her circumstances and claim the throne however she feels she needs, whether it be through politics or war. So rather than fight against her perpetually, they’re prepared to make a deal. They plan to offer her the throne, a unanimous vote of approval across the board, on the condition the she agrees to an arranged marriage to the man of their choosing.”

“Wow,” Lysandra mused. “I don’t envy her for having to make such a decision. Are they proposing that she marry King Havilliard?”

Arobynn scoffed, unimpressed by her guess. “Of course not. They’re going to propose that she marry me.”


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dialogue heavy, so I apologize if it's a little awkward to follow. The whole thing occurs within a court meeting, so there were many moving parts. Hope it makes sense, but I'm happy to answer any questions if something isn't super clear!

Lysandra wondered when the roaring in her ears would finally subside. She had stumbled through some poor excuse of a response to Arobynn Hamel's news, but he hadn't expected much of a contribution anyway. The rest of the work day had absolutely dragged, leading her to be more than mentally exhausted by the time she climbed into her car. She wanted nothing more than to drive home and throw herself onto her couch, but she was heading straight to the royal estate to debrief on the previous night at the restaurant. It was all for the best, she supposed, considering she had more than a bomb to drop on the court anyway.

The security checkpoints to get through the iron gates went smoothly. Operating nearly on autopilot, she was striding through the halls toward the war room and wishing she would have had a little time to share this information with Aedion prior to sharing with the group. There was no specific reason that she wanted to do so, if only to have an ally.

She plopped into her seat and took her time getting settled. The rest of the group filtered in one-by-one for the next couple of minutes, all of them greeting her happily and settling in. It struck her again how different her dynamic was between this group and the colleagues she'd worked alongside for numerous years now. Despite her hostile past with the princess, each of them greeted her as a veteran member of the court every time they had a meeting.

Her eyes were trained on the door in anticipation of seeing that familiar head of wavy blond hair walk through. After the night they spent and her complete failure at keeping Aedion out of her head all day, she'd long since decided to stop pretending she didn't look forward to seeing him. As if on cue, the prince walked into the war room, his stride brisk and purposeful. She watched as he scanned the table before his eyes landed on her, and he offered a bright smile in her direction as he approached the chair next to her.

"Hey," he spoke quietly, only for her to hear. "I, uhh. I missed you today."

The tops of his ears turned pink, and Lysandra was more than tempted to take his face between her hands to continue their kiss from last night.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Me too."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth absentmindedly, his eyes tracking the movement quickly. As soon as she realized he had done it, he was turning his gaze back toward the table. Her hand patted his knee gently, just because she wanted to, and his shoulders visibly relaxed at the contact.

"Connall," Lorcan recruited. "Would you brief everyone on the intel we gathered last night?"

Her friend shot her one of his sly winks, no doubt to tease her of what he'd learned about Lysandra and Aedion's sleeping arrangement. She doubted he would have said anything to Connall about it, but even if he had, at least she could trust Connall to keep it professional in the war room. She made a mental note to throttle Lorcan.

"Sure. Aedion and Lysandra were successful in engaging Lord Darrow, and as Aedion suspected, he did indeed invite the two of them to share drinks with him and Arobynn. After their meal they made their way over, and I instructed them to excuse themselves for a short interval of time to see if we could capture any of their conversation on the mic installed in Lysandra's clutch," Connall explained, pausing to allow for any questions or comments.

The court all nodded their understanding, and he continued.

"Commander Salvaterre and I thought they may be inclined to speak quickly about their plans for Aelin in the agents' absence, and we believe we recorded some relevant dialogue. We entertained a couple of theories upon hearing it initially, but we thought we would play it for all of you and discuss it as a group."

When there were no objections, Lorcan started to pull the audio files on the small laptop he brought to the meeting. After a few scrolls and mouse clicks, he was ready, and the group held their breath in anticipation. Due to the mic's placement, the audio was a touch muffled initially, but soon enough, Lord Darrow and Hamel's voices sounded through the room.

Lysandra shot a glance toward Aelin. Her head was bowed toward the table to make sure she could hear as well as possible, and her posture was rigid as she chewed the inside of her lip. Understandable, she decided, considering this entire thing revolved around men who may or may not want very bad things for the princess.

> _"While we have a few minutes, Arobynn," Darrow began. "I'd like to urge you to consider what we're proposing."_

> _"It's a great risk, Lord Darrow," Arobynn replied, his voice uncharacteristically meek. "Her highness will not readily accept it. If I remember her temperament accurately, anyway."_

> _"Bah. I think given the alternative, she would be grateful for the opportunity to ascend to her throne. We realize our trade agreements with Adarlan aren't secure for long considering her relationship with King Havilliard, and this would allow for shared governance of Terrasen in the absence of withholding her birth right. You and I both know the princess will not forego the possibility of becoming queen. Her pride wouldn't allow it."_

> _"I do not disagree, I assure you. However, I've kept tabs on the princess as you all requested, and it's possible that she's romantically involved with the prince of Doranelle. That certainly complicates this proposal."_

> _"Hm," Darrow considered, but ultimately he was undeterred. "That seems as though it's out of our hands, Arobynn. We make this proposal, and it's up to Princess Aelin to do the adequate soul-searching in order to make such a delicate decision."_

> _"Perhaps. Should she refuse, and we explore the alternative plan, he is still a very real barrier in the absence of any heir."_

> _"That's a bridge we shall cross when we arrive. I believe, between you and me, that's easily resolved," Darrow trailed off. "I wonder if our guests are alright. Have they been gone some time?"_

> _"It seems that way," Arobynn agreed, trailing off. "Oh, look. Just there. They're coming our way."_

> _"Gentlemen," Aedion's voice sounded smoothly over the mic. "I apologize for our delay. The lines—"_

His words were cut off by a firm click of the space bar to pause the audio. Lorcan's eyes scanned the table, gauging the reactions of the court, but with particular interest on the princess. Lysandra dared to look her way again to see her face was white, almost green, with panic starting to brew a tempest in those turquoise eyes. In this state, Lysandra would swear the gold rings of her eyes were living flames.

Rowan sat next to her, his hands white-knuckled around the chair arms so tightly that the wood started to groan beneath them. Despite her own turmoil, Aelin extended her hand to him, placing it on his forearm and trying to communicate silently through eye contact.

It was silent in the room for several moments, each minute seeming like its own individual eternity. Aedion was tense next to her, and she couldn't refrain from placing her hand between his shoulders, just below the base of his neck. He leaned into her touch automatically, and she couldn't give half a shit if anyone at the table noted the gesture.

"Lys," he said, his voice rough with emotion. He swallowed thickly before he turned to her and continued. "Before we discuss theories, do you have much to report from work today? Did you run into Arobynn at all?"

He slid his gaze over to Lorcan in silent permission of his idea. The dark-haired man nodded simply, encouraging her to share. She shoved down the anxiety roiling through her stomach, cleared her throat, pulled her hands into her lap, and launched into telling them of the beginning of the meeting with Arobynn.

"And just what the fuck does _he_ have to be concerned about with you?" Rowan snapped loudly, interrupting Lysandra's monologue.

Rowan Whitethorn was a tough nut to crack in terms of getting to know someone, but Lysandra realized then that he could be utterly terrifying.

"Ro," Aelin murmured, placing her hand over his on the chair arm. He maintained his iron grip, but he instantly tried to breathe through his temper at the soft tone of her voice.

"It's okay," Lysandra assured them, understanding perfectly well that he was likely spiraling after hearing threats against the woman he loved. "He was concerned that he didn't see my 'tells' as it relates to how I interact with Aedion. I think he had concerns regarding my objectivity because he wasn't seeing evidence that my affection was contrived."

Most of the others nodded their heads. It was Lorcan to push the issue further.

"And what did you say to that?"

Lysandra was surprised that he seemed all business; that this wasn't one of his cheeky, suggestive questions.

"I told him that Aedion was my assignment and nothing more. He said he had no option but to believe me, so we're good."

She pretended that she didn't see Aedion flinch out of the corner of her eye and continued.

"He transitioned pretty quickly from that to his actual goal in talking to me. Apparently, I'm the only one of his agents he's shared this information with, so we'll need to be delicate in how we move forward."

Lorcan's brow furrowed tightly, and in that moment, he reminded Lysandra more of how Aedion had described him that first night. Lorcan and Lysandra had hit it off early, bonded over a history of mutual exasperation with Aelin, and it was interesting to see the return of this intense demeanor so suddenly.

"Of course," he replied dryly, gesturing with his hand that she continue.

She began telling them everything Arobynn had shared with her, committing to sharing the information as accurately as she could, near verbatim. Their theories surrounding their trade relations being on a certain timer were met with nods of confirmation, indicating that her boss hadn't been far off.

Aelin’s head snapped toward Lorcan. “Does he know of our travel to Rifthold tomorrow? Has your source mentioned anything about this?”

Her voice didn’t convey any doubt in Lysandra’s account. It was more of a confirmation and probe for additional intel. An odd feeling, not entirely unpleasant, worked it’s way through her at Aelin’s clear show of trust.

“My source hasn’t mentioned anything to indicate that Arobynn knows of your travel. I would assume if Arobynn knew, especially if he knew it was only you and Whitethorn, there would be plans to intercept,” Lorcan supplied. “I’ll see if I can figure out a way to pry without offering the information myself.”

“Please do. Let me know as soon as you hear,” Aelin instructed. “Apologies for interrupting you, Lys.”

“If it’s any consolation, I haven’t heard anything surrounding travel to Rifthold. Considering the conversation we had earlier, I would think he would have mentioned it; even on accident,” Lysandra explained.

That seemed to appease the group for the time being, but she insisted that Lorcan still look into it to be certain.

Connall was the next to speak, his shift in topic a little premature given that he wasn't aware that Lysandra had yet to scratch the surface. "Salvaterre and I believe that the context of their conversation had to do with—"

"Wait," Lysandra interrupted. "I think I can save you, and everyone else, some time."

The full attention of the room was on her with a level of scrutiny that wasn't there before. She pulled as much air as possible into her lungs as and forced it out in an attempt to settle her raging emotions.

"Since their trade agreement would be a perpetual source of tension, they acknowledge that Aelin will likely never stop pursuing her right to the throne. They believe it to be a matter of time before she negotiates King Dorian into a more competitive trade agreement being that they have significant rapport, so rather than it come to blows, they're prepared to negotiate a way for you to ascend in what they believe is a mutually beneficial way.

There was a spark of optimism in Aelin's eyes, and Lysandra was afraid to delay the blow much longer. It was going to be painful enough to watch that light die, much less if it got much brighter.

"They're planning to propose an arranged marriage with a man of their choosing in the hopes of maintaining some influence over Terrasen's governance. They think that if you marry appropriately, they would be able to maintain some autonomy of their respective territories."

She hated watching the muscles of Aelin's beautiful face go slack as the news permeated her brain. Rowan's facial expression was nearly feral at that point, yet he managed to keep his reaction contained to a low groan and a firm pinching of the bridge of his nose. Because she couldn't help it, she glanced sidelong at Aedion who had gone absolutely still.

"They want to offer me to Dorian as some kind of bartering piece? And what if I refuse?" Aelin demanded, red-hot anger working its way into her voice.

Rowan spoke next, the calm of his voice scarier than when he had raised it before. "Fireheart, that answer was in the recording. There's only one reason things are complicated by the lack of an heir."

"What the fuck is my life?" Aelin muttered, her question very clearly rhetorical. "These men haven't deigned to sit down and have a legitimate conversation with me regarding my politics, yet they've already devised a plan where I'm married off in Adarlan or killed. They don't know enough to know that I have absolutely zero intention of stripping their influences."

"Aelin," Lysandra began. "They are planning to propose that you marry Arobynn Hamel."

A silence so deafening had never existed before that moment, she decided. She scanned the room to find looks of absolute shock and terror on every face.

"So," the princess croaked, no shortage of venom in her tone. "I have to choose between death and being a wife to Arobynn." She sucked on the inside of her cheek, her turquoise eyes fixed on the center of the table. "As if there's much of a difference."

Rowan was barely hanging on, the wood of the table being the next victim of his iron-like grip. It groaned in protest, but his hands remained white-knuckled around the edge.

"No," Aedion said with finality. "There has to be an alternative."

Her partner was as white as a sheet, and she longed to comfort him. The rigidity of his posture told her it was best if she didn't; that he needed to work through this on his own.

"Did you hear one, Aedion?" Aelin snapped. "It seems pretty black and white."

"Maybe you're okay with accepting that fate, but I won't hear it. Aelin, we can figure this—"

" _Do not_ insinuate that I'm giving up; on Terrasen or all of us. If this is my sacrifice to make sure you're all safe, I will do what I need to do," she seethed.

"Save me the martyr bullshit, Aelin," he retorted, not at all intimidated by the fire roaring in his cousin.

"Watch it," Rowan warned through clenched teeth, although the warning sounded more like a promise.

"Whitethorn, I don't see your bloodline being threatened here, so you can save it, too."

Lysandra knew her eyes were the size of saucers now. Conflict was hardly rare at court meetings, but this was the first she'd seen of them launching at each other's throats.

"Aedion," she warned, placing a hand on his bicep to check him politely. He promptly shrugged her off, her warning the equivalent of dust.

"Enough," Lorcan commanded, his voice stopping them all in their tracks. "This is our nightmare, and I get that. This shit—" He gestured between Rowan and Aedion. "— is not productive, and I'm not throwing my ass between you two again."

She made a mental note to get that story later. Fenrys was looking at Aelin with a gentleness and concern she rarely saw from the twin. It looked as though they were communicating almost telepathically, and it reminded her of how much hope Aelin brought to this entire court. She tried to force her brain to a solution but was coming up short.

It was quiet for minutes while each of them got their bearings again. The vacant stare was back in Aelin's eyes, so similar to the first night she'd sat with this court, and Lysandra couldn't imagine the terror that she was experiencing. The thought of an arranged marriage nauseated her on Aelin's behalf; the idea of having to marry someone against her will completely abhorrent.

"It would explain why Darrow asked of our courtship announcement," Aedion murmured to her, barely audible. "He specifically asked if there was any issue with you as a 'suitable partner'. I guarantee he was fishing for any barriers to their proposal of Arobynn."

"Yeah," she breathed. It was a weak response at best, but she wasn't sure what to say instead.

"I'm not sure how much time we have before they call a meeting," Lorcan stated, "but we will exhaust every avenue in the meantime. Worst case scenario, maybe you could accept while we work through this."

Aelin only nodded, a look of defeat etched in every square inch of her face.

Rowan hit his threshold, launching himself from the chair abruptly. The force of it sent the chair crashing behind him, but he never looked back as he stalked out of the room. There was a faint roar of curses that echoed in his wake.

Aelin stood to follow him, but Aedion lifted his hand to stop her. "I'll go," he told her, already on his feet.

"Is that a good idea, Ashryver?" Lorcan asked. To be fair, it was a reasonable question given their earlier exchange.

Reason aside, a flicker of anger so reminiscent of Aelin's showed itself in his face. His responding voice was low and lethal.

"Anyone think they can relate better to the magnitude of what he's losing?" he spat, his eyes softening as they landed on his cousin. His question was only met with silence. "I'll debrief with you on the rest later," he announced, and then, he was gone.

Lysandra struggled to conceptualize the war raging within Rowan. It was one thing to lose the love of one's life to an arranged marriage, but losing them in a marriage where you knew their needs would never be met seemed especially gut-wrenching. The man didn't even have the benefit of knowing she would be married to someone with strong morals, who would keep her safe through life's—

"Aelin," she said suddenly, a cohesive image appearing within the fog of her brain.

The princess' head snapped up toward her. "How close are you and King Dorian?"

"Very. Although, I'm sure he'll hold a grudge when I cancel our trip tomorrow," she said, huffing a humorless laugh. "I just can't imagine going to negotiate a trade agreement when I know it won't matter."

"Close enough that he would ask for your hand in marriage?"

Lorcan's eyes grew, his attention glued to her every word as he realized where she was going.

A chuckled sounded from Aelin. "Um, not quite. That potential is ancient history with Dorian."

"What if it were temporary? Long enough to buy us time without you having to tie yourself to Arobynn Hamel."

Their commander looked almost giddy at this breakthrough, especially when realization dawned across the princess' face.

"And you called _me_ a clever bitch, Lysandra."

"Couldn't she just marry Rowan if it's a matter of being betrothed to a member of nobility?" Connall interjected.

"Aside from that being more obviously reactionary, Arobynn and the lords would likely aim to eliminate him entirely. Then, they would be free to execute their original plan," Lysandra replied.

"Rowan is one of many members of Doranelle nobility, and if they're skilled in staging accidental deaths, it's possible that it wouldn't be questioned without significant prompting," Lorcan continued. "But if they make a move on Aelin as the bride-elect of King Dorian Havilliard, it risks a powerful alliance. He knows her too intimately for them to expect that he wouldn't investigate her death, and regardless, it would be considered an act of war on Adarlan. One that Terrasen isn't in a position to win."

"Aelin and Rowan aren't public with their romantic relationship, so we could easily present that he's her personal Guard. It would be enough to explain away Arobynn's theory of their involvement,"Lysandra added. "And I can feed information subtly to the team in support of that."

Aelin sat a little straighter over the course of the discussion, hope starting to shine delicately across her features.

"Well, it looks like I need to work on a completely different proposal for tomorrow," she announced. "Lysandra, would you be willing to accompany us to Rifthold? I'm going to need you to help me keep everything to do with Arobynn and the lords straight."

"Of course. I can't imagine that Arobynn would discourage me from going. The potential for information is too great."

"Good. That means Aedion will need to join us as well. Otherwise, our travel together would seem more suspicious. Lorcan, I think it would be best if you joined us too considering you're commanding this mission."

Lorcan seemed apprehensive to leave Terrasen so vulnerable, but Fenrys and Connall promised they were capable of holding things down for the duration of the trip. Additionally, Aelin reminded them that Aedion could recruit the Bane to aid in security without divulging any sensitive information. They discussed the logistics of travel for several minutes before Rowan and Aedion rejoined the group; the former offering a firm clap on Aedion's shoulder before finding his seat next to Aelin.

Lorcan filled the both of them in on their game plan with unplanned and sporadic assistance from Aelin. Hope bloomed in Lysandra's chest as she watched some of the heaviness leave Aedion and Rowan over the course of the discussion. Neither of the men had any trepidation for the plan; in fact, they both looked relieved to involve Dorian rather than any alternative.

—

A while later the meeting adjourned, and they all left quickly to start making travel preparations. Aedion announced that he would be briefing the Bane as soon as he could get them together, so Lorcan would be accompanying Lysandra to her apartment. Before leaving the estate, Lysandra needed to talk to him about her comments from earlier, and she jogged down the hall to catch him.

"Aedion!" she called. "Wait!"

She watched as his shoulders tensed, his feet coming to a halt at her words. He turned around and walked back a little to meet her.

"What's up? Everything alright?"

"Can we talk?" she asked, not realizing until now how nervous she was to have the conversation.

The prince rubbed the back of his neck as he considered.

"Ah— I don't know if I can right now. I don't know about you, but I'm wiped from drinking so much last night. I was going to take a power nap and get ready for the trip before I meet with the Bane."

Disappointment settled in Lysandra's stomach. Aedion was incredibly busy, she understood, but he seemed far more aloof than usual at her presence.

"Oh. Okay. I just wanted to make sure you weren't upset with me... for what I said about you to Arobynn."

Something like hurt flashed in his eyes, confirming her nerves at seeing him flinch in the meeting. He let out a long breath before he responded.

"I'm not... mad, Lys." His eyes bore into hers, and she knew he was being genuine. "I won't lie and say it didn't sting, but it wasn't you. More than anything it reminded me what we're doing here, and reality set in more suddenly that I would have liked."

"Okay," she breathed. "I just needed you to know I meant what I said last night. I don't want you to think you can't trust me or that—"

"Hey," he interrupted, his hand reaching out to hers and his thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles. It may have been comforting if not for the grave look on his face. "You're doing what you have to do. I get it. I've been in these situations before."

Lysandra managed a nod, cursing herself that she couldn't think of anything to say.

"It's the nature of the beast," he continued. "It's not your fault that we'll never be able to trust each other, you know?"

At that, he slipped his hand from hers, taking care not to shove it away or drop it. He offered her a sad, sideways smile before turning around and walking away.


	8. Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few updates have been plot heavy, and while this chapter still contributes to the plot somewhat, it’s heavier on the social engagement between court members + the introduction of Dorian into the story. I sprinkled in a little debauchery at the end for good measure. 😊

“If it makes you feel any better, Aedion probably isn’t having a great time either,” Lorcan offered from his spot on the floor, feet propped on the arm of the chair and staring at the ceiling.

“Why would that make me feel better?” Lysandra asked dryly. She laid on the couch, staring at her own spot on the ceiling as if it was her job.

“Well, he’s having an extended meeting with the Bane tonight. It’s gotta wear on him to spend so much time with Kyllian after your little lover’s spat.”

“Kyllian?” She asked, propping herself on an elbow to look down at him.

She bit back a laugh at seeing Lorcan’s massive form laid on her floor, taking up the bulk of her walking space and his ebony hair feathered out around his head like a crown. If she didn’t know he was lethal, and if he wasn’t the size of two men shoved together, she wouldn’t find him the least bit intimidating at seeing him this way.

“Shit,” he muttered, a large, tan hand coming up to rub roughly down his face. “I figured since you two were all friendly and sharing a bed that the ex conversation had come up by now.”

After her short run-in with Aedion in the hallway, her spirit had deflated. Lorcan picked up on her demeanor immediately, and since she was already emotionally exhausted from the day, the poor man had fallen victim to her venting. To his credit, he listened attentively and even pretended the idea of Aedion and Lysandra having romantic feelings for one another was news.

“No, actually. So, Kyllian. Were they serious?”

“Ennar, he should be the one to tell you this, not me.”

“Probably so. But you’re the moron that brought it up, so I think you need to spill.” Then, when he didn’t seem inclined to do so, “Come on, please?”

“They’ve been through a lot together; several deployments and other specialty missions. I don’t exactly know how long they were romantically involved because they kept it low key, but I know they were close even before. The only reason I know they dated at all is because Aedion was a fucking wreck after they called it; so much anger and brooding for a prince who is generally pretty cheerful. Annoyingly likable, even.”

Lysandra felt a swell of protectiveness for this version of Aedion; a version she’d never encountered. It was hard for her to imagine.

“Why did they? Call it, I mean?”

“So nosy tonight,” he muttered, and she tossed a small throw pillow toward his head. He batted it down effortlessly and spoke as if she hadn’t thrown anything at all. Prick. “Apparently Kyllian was coming to terms with his sexual identity at the time, and even though he loved Aedion, he wasn’t ready to come out. Aedion’s status was an additional barrier since coming out wouldn’t have been isolated to their community. It would be nationally-recognized news.”

“Damn, that hurts.”

“Yeah. Aedion never once pushed him on it, but since his status isn’t exactly going anywhere, they made the mutual decision to split.”

“Why am I not surprised to find out that Aedion was supportive and patient?” she asked rhetorically, flopping back into the couch.

A deep chuckle from Lorcan. “He’s one of the good ones, Ashryver. None of us are perfect, but he wants to do right by people, you know?”

“Mhmm,” she whispered. “Thank you, by the way. You hungry?”

“It’s either give me food or pay my session rate, Ennar. Your pick.”

—

Lysandra hadn’t stopped thinking about what Lorcan shared all throughout dinner and through her shower. She was already missing her partner, having gotten used to him staying over nightly, and learning of his past had made it all the more intense. The clock read 10pm. She didn’t know if he would be done with his meeting, but it was safe to assume it was a good time to reach out. Waiting for him to come to her was only going to keep her up all night when she couldn’t afford to be behind on sleep. She hadn’t liked how they left things, so before she could talk herself out of it, she scrolled to his contact and pressed the call button.

“Hello?” His voice was low, and he sounded exhausted.

“Aedion, hey. How did your meeting go?”

“Long,” he groaned. “But we’re all set for the trip. You all packed?”

Lysandra looked at the various articles of clothing thrown across her bed and decided to lie.

“Yep. All ready to go.”

“I envy you. I’m only about halfway,” he replied. “So what’s up? Did you need something?”

She looked at her comforter and traced the thread pattern while she searched for something, anything, to say.

“Mm, no. Just checking in.”

“Lysandra,” he teased, and she was so relieved to hear the usual lilt of his voice. “Did you miss me?”

He huffed a laugh at his question, and she could hear him pause whatever he was doing in the background when she didn’t respond.

“Hey, seriously. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “Okay, that’s a lie.”

His chuckle carried through the receiver, yet he continued to wait for her to share when she was ready.

“I don’t like how we left things after the meeting today. I— umm, I don’t know how to say this exactly, but it matters a lot to me that you feel that way. Like we can’t trust each other.”

She held her breath as she waited for him to respond. This was the most forthcoming she had been to date about how she felt. Most of their affection was in the form of flirtation and small, thoughtful actions. Aedion had told her he cared about her the night before, but she realized during her obsessive thinking earlier in the evening that the only thing she had shared with him was that she wanted him to kiss her again. _Smooth, Lysandra._

“Lys, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put that on you. I was fucked up from that meeting, and the context made me think too much. If we’re not successful— if we don’t pull this off— obviously there are dire consequences for Aelin, but it complicates things with us, too. Arobynn would be the most powerful man in Terrasen, and our only shot would be to spend our lives living in secret. Otherwise, I would be afraid your life would be in danger somehow. He would eventually learn what you did for us, and—“

“Aedion,” she interrupted, her chest crumpling at his revelation. After learning of his history with Kyllian, she realized he assumed her to be yet another person he wouldn’t be able to claim publicly. He would be a bachelor, the “party prince”, forever.

“Shit, that’s way too much information,” he scrambled. “This could all be very temporary for you anyway, and here I am talking about years out—“

“Aedion,” she said again, a smile coming through in her voice. He finally stopped talking and waited. “It’s okay. I understand wanting to look into the future. Just, maybe give it a chance to play out a little?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Old habits die hard sometimes. I’m constantly trying to stay a step a head; assessing the risks to myself and everyone else involved. I guess I can’t control everything.”

Lysandra laughed delicately at that, relating to him far too strongly. “Life would be easier if we could, though. By the way, about last night... I care, too. About you, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah?” She could hear his smirk in his voice, and she regretted stroking his ego. Even if it was the entire truth. “So you weren’t solely inspired by me being shirtless or anything?”

“It certainly didn’t hurt matters,” she teased, and Aedion’s full, uninhibited laugh came through the phone.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” she breathed. “Well hey, I’ll let you go. In the spirit of honesty; I lied about being all packed, so I should probably go do that and go to bed.”

“Unbelievable,” he teased before telling her goodnight and ending the call.

—

The next morning, Lysandra dragged her tired bones from bed to get ready for her flight to Rifthold. She opted for a simple braid over her shoulder to keep her long locks contained without interfering with her headrest on the plane and shrugged on an oversized sweater over her leggings. Perfect travel clothes. She packed an outfit to change into before meeting King Havilliard to seem as presentable as possible, although the court assured her it wasn’t necessary.

As Lorcan drove to meet Aelin, Rowan, and Aedion, she sent a text to Annie just to double check that her schedule was, in fact, cleared for the next several days. Arobynn’s assistant confirmed it was and promised to call her if anything time-sensitive were to come up in her absence. Lysandra closed her messaging app to open another for food delivery and sent Annie the coffee she had mentally committed to sending days ago.

It was a short drive to the private runway where the royal family’s jet was housed. Lysandra wondered what it was like to grow up with luxuries such as these. The realization that Aelin should have, but didn’t, caused her to feel a genuine sense of sadness for the princess. The woman had missed out on so much already, only to have to fight for her birth right all over again. Yet another moment that solidified the decision she made to work this mission.

The plane ride was, blessedly, uneventful. Lysandra spent the majority of the trip sitting near Aelin while she briefed her on her time in Adarlan, Rifthold specifically, and the king’s history. Before she realized it, it was time to change and start preparing for their landing in Rifthold.

A security detail met them at the jet and escorted them to the entrance of the palace. They entered a broad iron gate before she felt warm fingers sliding into the palm of her hand. Aedion had caught up to her and was walking closely now, a warm smile on his face. It wasn’t until his presence steadied her that she realized how nervous she was to meet the king. It wasn’t that Aelin hadn’t presented him as perfectly agreeable, but she never seemed to acclimate to all the etiquette surrounding nobility. She didn’t want to be a poor representation of this court, who had done nothing but welcome her.

The palace doors opened and a few members of the king’s Guard spilled out. They divided down the middle, walking to each side of the entry to line the walkway. King Dorian Havilliard emerged toward the end of their line and was shadowed by three Guards behind him as he walked out to greet everyone. He asked the the Guards who followed him to hang back and slid his hands into the pockets of his deep navy blue suit. Eyes the color of bright sapphires gleamed as he smiled toward them and slowed to a stop.

“Welcome to Rifthold,” he announced, his tone smooth and casual.

Lysandra crossed her ankles to offer a small curtsy as Lorcan and Aedion offered a small bow on each side of her. She assumed Rowan and Aelin were doing the same from next to Lorcan until she saw a flourish of golden blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. The princess of Terrasen was running, full speed with no intention of slowing down, until she neared the king and threw herself forward. King Havilliard pulled his hands from his pockets just in time to catch Aelin in the air, her legs wrapping around his waist. His laugh echoed off the cobblestones, and Lysandra was fairly certain only dogs could hear Aelin’s squeal if it were any higher-pitched.

Aedion let out a good-natured chuckle at his cousin’s behavior. They all glanced down to Rowan, who wore a small smile as he shook his head affectionately. The king set Aelin down before gripping her gently by her shoulders.

“I take it you missed me,” he teased. “I should have known you would abandon decorum when we reunited.”

“Oh, excuse me, your Magnanimous Holiness,” she replied dramatically and dropped into a deep curtsy. “You are most charitable for hosting my court.”

“Stop that,” he retorted with a roll of his striking blue eyes. He oriented himself toward the rest of them and walked their way to greet them properly.

Rowan and Lorcan both greeted him far more modestly than Aelin had; with a handshake and firm clap on the shoulder. They exchanged familiar, casual pleasantries before the king turned his attention to Aedion and her. Lysandra couldn’t help but notice that he was even more stunning up close; probably the most beautiful man she had ever seen, in a way that was truly unfair to all humankind.

“Your Majesty,” Aedion greeted, but she picked up on the slight teasing in his tone.

“Not you, too. Is your cousin not enough?” he joked. “Although, I could always insist on calling you Prince Ashryver for the duration of your visit.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Aedion said. Without a delay, he turned to introduce Lysandra. “Dorian, this beautiful woman is a dear friend of mine. Olivia, I’d like you to meet King Dorian Havilliard.”

Aedion offered her hand forward, and Dorian took it delicately in his own. “Please, call me Dorian.” Lysandra must have looked panicked at the prospect of being so casual with him because he added, “Olivia, I insist.” Rather than lower his lips to her hand in greeting, he brought his other hand up to cover it briefly, effectively cradling her small hand in his own larger ones. She already liked him better than most.

“Let’s get you all settled in your rooms, and we can meet for an early dinner, yeah?”

—

The palace dining room was quite large; with excessively high ceilings and tall, solid wood doors. The windows were extraordinary and were framed by fine, woven drapes that were hanged immaculately to frame them. The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it was low in the sky. Lysandra could only imagine how beautiful of a backdrop the sunset was going to be once they started on their meals.

Aedion interrupted her thoughts by gently tucking a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. She glanced up to see him looking at her with such raw affection that she considered excusing them both in favor of heading to their chambers. After their conversation on the phone the night before, they hadn’t had much time alone, and his face was looking painfully kissable in that moment.

Dinner was pleasant. Lysandra really enjoyed watching how Dorian interacted with the others of the court, finding him quite charming. As an added bonus, he was quick-witted and clever, making him a worthy partner for any verbal sparring session. Aelin seemed to instigate such conversations most with the king. As it turned out, he was quite passionate about the books he recommended and did not take kindly to what he felt were unwarranted criticisms by the princess.

Lysandra agreed with much of Dorian’s taste in literature, and toward the end of dinner, she felt comfortable enough to start voicing it. This earned vehement appreciation from his Majesty, cries of outrage from the princess, and looks of amusement from Aedion. Lorcan seemed unfazed by the conversation entirely; his brown eyes looking terribly preoccupied.

“Now you’ve done it,” Aedion whispered into her ear as Aelin turned her war path toward her.

“I think I’ll manage fine. But just in case, protect me?”

“From Aelin?!” The look on his face was genuinely incredulous. “You might be on your own with that one. May the gods be with you.”

Lysandra tossed her head back as she laughed. She thought if it actually came down to it, he would at least try to get between them, though.

“What’s so funny?” Aelin demanded as she assessed the two of them.

“Nothing, dear cousin of mine. I love you,” Aedion replied, his boyish smile on full display.

“Like Hellas you do,” the princess muttered, but her lips quirked up in a smile despite herself.

The dishes were cleared away, leaving only their drinks on the table. Dorian suggested that they go into the parlor to discuss business so that could carry on with having fun afterward, and they all followed him down the hallway.

Everyone got settled in their respective chairs before he addressed them. “So, what brings all of you to Adarlan? Aelin, you said we had things to discuss?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Although, it’s a much longer story now that it was originally.”

Dorian brought his brows together in determination as he leaned forward to offer his full attention. “Start at the beginning, I suppose.”

Aelin started the story in the same place that she had all those weeks ago with Lysandra. She explained the trade agreement, how the lords of Terrasen revered Arobynn Hamel, and revealed Lysandra’s true identity. Aelin was sure to follow-up with how imperative it was that her identity remain classified and that they should all continue to refer to her as Olivia outside of the room; on the off-chance the lords had ears in Adarlan, too.

Dorian agreed without a half-thought, and Lysandra admired his loyalty to his friend. One of his oldest friends, as he’d pointed out at dinner. As he made the promise, he offered a small smile in Lysandra’s direction as if to make the promise to her personally as well.

Lorcan took over the telling of events once they arrived at Lord Darrow and Arobynn Hamel’s meeting at The Ferian. He gave him a recap of the mission and the general outline of the conversation they had recorded with Lysandra’s mic. She chimed in with a detail now and then, and when it came to reveal what she’d learned from Arobynn the next day, Lorcan deferred to her altogether.

She cleared her throat and told him of her conversation with Arobynn, taking care to offer the same disclaimer as she had with the court about using the information delicately. Dorian listened with rapt attention as she spoke, and she fought a flush under his intensity.

“I can’t blame the man for not seeing any pretense between you and Aedion. The both of you had me fooled entirely, and I pride myself on being able to read people,” he commented.

_Well, that’s a long story. Because we may not be pretending anymore and that complicates everything so—_

“Yeah. They’re pretty gross.” Lorcan teased, and Lysandra mentally added another to the throttling she still owed him from the day before.

“Anyway,” she deflected. “As I was saying, the lords plan to propose that Aelin marry a man of their choosing. That man is Arobynn Hamel.”

Dorian’s eyes grew large at her news. He huffed a long breath through his pursed lips as he leaned back into his arm chair and ran a hand through his full, black hair.

“Wow. I _really_ thought you were going to say they planned to arrange for her to marry me. I’m way off my game today, I guess.”

“No,” Aelin chuckled. “That’s what all of us thought initially, too. We would all still believe that if Lys hadn’t shared that intel with us.”

“Well, what if you were already married? Not to put you on the spot, Rowan, but couldn’t the two of you get married?”

“Not necessarily,” Aedion interjected. He shared their rationale that it would seem reactionary and tip Arobynn off. Additionally, there was the possibility that it would be a threat to Rowan’s life, and if they were successful, a threat to Aelin’s life.

“I see,” he said dryly, his vacant stare landing on Aelin and coming back into focus. “So what do we do?”

The princess almost looked shy, and Lysandra realized that this was a cruel type of torture for her. Aelin hated nothing more than to ask for help, to pull her loved ones into a mess that she felt was hers to handle. And here she was, about to ask one of her oldest friends to risk political and social repercussions to try and bail her out. The operative word being, try.

“I had an idea,” Lysandra announced suddenly, feeling compelled to bail Aelin out. Dorian’s gaze snapped toward her, and she held his full attention once again. “What if the two of you were engaged? It would eliminate the lords’ reasons for being so dedicated to Arobynn, and it would protect Aelin from any physical threats since it would be an act of war on Adarlan. Terrasen can’t risk that potential being that they don’t currently have the resources to win.”

Aelin shot a look of appreciation toward her, and she accepted it with a gentle smile. Dorian’s gaze dropped to the intricate patterns of the parlor rug as he considered, his hands posted on his knees and hands clasped between them.

“So, how do you feel about getting engaged, Dorian?” Aelin asked jokingly, although it fell a little flat.

He sat quietly for another few seconds before he glanced up at the princess, his ebony hair sweeping slightly across his forehead.

“I feel like that’s the worst proposal in all of Erilea’s history,” he deadpanned, and the entire room held their breath. “I’m no snob, but a _little_ fanfare would have been welcome, for the gods‘ sake.”

Dorian graced them with a smile then, and the room exhaled collectively in relief. Aelin let out a delighted chuckle, her turquoise eyes shining at who was very much her savior in that moment.

“Really? You’ll do it?”

“Of course, Aelin,” he insisted. He stood casually and extended his hand toward her. “Come. Let’s go have a look in the Havilliard vault. There’s bound to be a suitable ring in one of those coffers.”

“That’s not necessary. I can wear something I have already.”

“Absolutely not. If I’m to have proposed, there will be two nations worth of people looking at us. There should be an heirloom on your finger if we want to avoid any suspicion,” he retorted. He gently gripped her hand to encourage her to stand, and Rowan stood alongside her.

“I never thought I would have to say this, but thank you. For being engaged to Aelin,” he said earnestly, his eyes fixed on Dorian with clear appreciation.

“You both have done more for me than I could ever repay. I’m happy to do it,” Dorian replied.

“Alright, now this is just getting weird. Let’s go,” Aelin ordered, pulling Dorian’s hand.

The men chuckled at the truth of their situation before Dorian walked with Aelin toward the door, calling over his shoulder, “If you all would be so kind as to get into your loungewear, I believe this calls for a celebration around the fire. My fiancée and I will meet you on the terrace shortly.”

“ _Dorian,_ ” Aelin groaned, before the door shut behind them.

—

Considering her impure thoughts at dinner, Lysandra was grateful for their en-suite bathroom where she changed into her casual clothes. She was in absolutely no headspace to see Aedion shirtless again if they ever wanted to make it to the terrace with the others. Only divine timing could be credited with the fact that he was fully clothed by the time she exited the bathroom.

Aedion glanced up from where he was folding his previously worn clothes and offered one of those smiles that made her go a little weak in the knees; not that she would ever admit it to him. The items were immediately discarded as he walked slowly over to her. Lysandra felt her body flush and cursed it for not at least waiting until he made some kind of physical contact.

“Hi,” he breathed, taking her hand in his and bringing her knuckles up to his lips. “I haven’t gotten you to myself at all today.”

“You have not,” she murmured and pulled his hand gently behind her.

He realized immediately what he wanted and wrapped her tightly against him as he walked her slowly to the nearest wall. His other hand braced them initially so that he could press her softly against it before it found its home tangled in her braid, just at the base of her skull.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Lysandra,” he teased, his fingers flexing in her braid to tip her head back slightly.

“I disagree,” she snarked, her hands running greedily over his arms and chest.

A small chuckle is all he offered before pressing his lips firmly to hers. She arched into him automatically; pressing their hips together tightly and pulling a long groan from Aedion. He took his time with her, kissing her so thoroughly that she wondered if she would be light-headed once he decided to move away for her.

With a quick squeeze of his arm around her waist, he was lifting her just enough to slide his thigh between hers. He released his grip on her slightly to settle her over him, and the aching in her core became nearly unbearable. Lysandra whimpered against his lips, and his responding groan did little to remedy her current state. Her hips rocked against him without a conscious thought, their kisses only intensifying as she moved.

A door down the hall slammed shut, startling them both and bringing Lysandra rudely into the present. She laughed softly against his mouth before letting out a loud sigh.

“We should go meet everyone,” she announced regretfully.

“No,” Aedion pouted dramatically into her neck, his lips grazing softly over her collarbone.

Lysandra ran her fingers close to his scalp and tugged gently on his hair to bring his face up from her neck. “Yes, Aed. Come on,” she insisted softly.

Seeing Aedion’s eyelids flutter indecently at her soft tugging, and his subsequent low growl, made her want to instantly abandon her own plan.

“That is going to accomplish the opposite, I assure you,” he murmured as he looked down at her. His gaze was impossibly darker, and she had to gently press his hips away from hers to keep her wits about her.

She gripped his hand firmly and headed for the door as she said over her shoulder, “I’ll be sure to keep that in my back pocket.”

“Now you’re being cruel,” he retorted and walked hand-in-hand with her to meet their friends.

—

Very little time passed before everyone had grown more relaxed around the small fire on the terrace. Aedion had picked a large chair closest to the heat and pulled Lysandra sideways across his lap. His thumb was rubbing soft circles on her hip, and she had to focus intently on literally anything else to keep her blood from heating yet again.

Dorian had begun the evening with a poetic, yet unnecessary cheers to he and Aelin’s engagement. The young king was generous when he refilled the others’ drinks afterward, and a small buzz was working its way through each member of their little gathering. Everyone except Lorcan, anyway. Lysandra felt determined to change that.

“You’re far too sober, Lorcan,” she noted, calling him out in the hopes that the others would join her crusade. They did not disappoint. Even Rowan joined in the taunting.

“Mind your own business, Ennar,” he shot back playfully. “Some of us hold our liquor well.”

“Mm. I think there’s just way more alcohol needed for— all that.” She gestured over his massive form for emphasis.

“Drinking game?” Aelin proposed, a sly grin on her face.

“Oof,” Rowan groaned. “Aren’t we a little old to go that hard, Fireheart?”

“Speak for yourself, Buzzard. I’ll hold your hair back if you’re sick tomorrow,” she teased while resting her hand affectionately on his tattooed jaw.

“I like it. I think a game of Never Have I Ever would get ol’ Salvaterre good and drunk,” Dorian announced deviously, the alcohol clearly taking its effect on him.

“YES! See? This is why I’m marrying you!” Aelin exclaimed, earning a laugh from the group. “Lorcan, we’ll let you go first. Out of fairness.”

“Fairness, she says,” her friend muttered sardonically. “Fine. Never have I ever slept exclusively with Rowan Whitethorn.”

That earned several select curses from the princess, but the smile around the lip of her glass showed she didn’t regret having to drink. Rowan nuzzled his nose into her hair and whispered something that Lysandra was sure she was grateful not to hear. Whatever it was had Aelin blushing and taking another long pull of her drink.

“Never have I ever kissed the King of Adarlan,” Rowan announced, allowing his love little time to recover.

And people said she and Aedion were gross.

“You prick!” Aelin exclaimed in mock outrage as Rowan let out a loud laugh. She slapped his thigh for good measure.

Aedion ever so slowly brought his drink to his mouth, trying to hide the small sip behind Lysandra’s shoulder. She regretted that her head snapped his way and blew his cover, but there were several shocked expressions thrown his way already. Aelin, naturally, was the one to press matters.

“WHAT—“ she shrieked, her pitch nearing that of a whistle.

Dorian’s cheeks were tinted a faint pink, the blush starting to spread to his neck as well. Now that he had changed from his formal shirt to a crew neck sweater, Lysandra saw the faint scar around his neck that Aelin had mentioned on the plane. These young monarchs and their tragic origin stories.

“We attended a lot of the same parties, Aelin, it’s no—“

“Nononono. Do not act like this isn’t a big deal, Dorian. You necked with my cousin?!”

“ _Gods_ , Aelin,” Aedion groaned, tucking his face into Lysandra’s shoulder.

She couldn’t fight a small chuckle at his expense, even if the mental image of Aedion and Dorian was unfairly distracting.

“Would you settle down?” Dorian demanded.

“It’s my turn,” she announced, and Lysandra knew that mischievous look in Aelin’s eyes. “Never have I ever had sex with the King of Adarlan.”

There was a very loaded silence, all eyes fixed on Aedion. Lysandra risked a glance to Dorian, whose blush seemed a shade darker. Without having to turn back to Aedion, she knew how he responded by Aelin’s shrill voice.

“Are you kidding me?! Someone needs to explain how this happened.”

“Aelin,” Aedion snapped. “It was years ago. We went through our party phases around the same time and ended up at a lot of the same ones. The rest is history. Can we _please_ move on from the topic of my sex life?”

“Fine. I just can’t believe neither of you told me.”

“Really?” Dorian countered, a menacing grin on his face. “After you took it so well?”

Aelin tried, and ultimately failed, to level him with a glare. The king was unfazed by her antics, whether it be because of the alcohol in his system or their years of familiarity. Rowan hooked his arm around Aelin’s waist to pull her back against his chest and hugged her tightly as if to comfort her.

“This _is_ fun,” Lorcan announced with a grin, earning a glare from all the others.

The game continued around them, but Lysandra turned to Aedion to check in. He seemed unaffected by the recent revelation as he watched the others intently.

“So, Dorian, huh?”

The prince turned his attention to her casually, his lips drawing up in amusement. “Once upon a time. It was purely casual though,” he answered, his tone a matter of fact. Then, with a little more jest, “You jealous, Lys?”

She really wasn’t. Clearly what happened between them was ancient history, and she didn’t particularly care to have her own past held over her head. However, she cared to wipe the satisfied smirk off his face.

“Jealous? Not exactly. But look at him— and look at you.”

Aedion looked at her as if she spoke a foreign language, so she continued. “The mental picture is a lot to mediate; I can’t lie. Just how wet are you trying to make me tonight?”

He had been sipping his drink as she spoke, and upon hearing her question, he sputtered his drink across their laps dramatically. His chest heaved as he coughed in an attempt to collect himself, which made Lysandra feel a little guilty at how hard she was laughing. Looks of concern turned their way, but Lysandra dismissed them with a quick, “Went down the wrong pipe. He’s good!”

The others seemed satisfied with that and continued their banter, the game temporarily forgotten in the way they often are in a group of inebriated people. Aedion wiped tears from his eyes before locking his darkened gaze on her own.

“Challenge accepted.”


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for strong language and sexual content. NSFW.

——————————————————————————

Lysandra assumed the game continued around them. Were it not for Aedion’s warm fingers drawing small circles over the bare skin of her lower back, she may have even paid attention. She hadn’t meant to challenge him to tease her quite so mercilessly, but it was obvious very quickly that it didn’t take much.

“Um, hello? I’m not drinking by myself to this, Lys,” Aelin announced, pulling her abruptly from her thoughts.

She shook her head to refocus. “I’m sorry— what was it?”

Lorcan was the one to speak next. The grin on his face made her want to flash a vulgar gesture his way.

“Never have I ever lived a double life,” he repeated.

Clearly her friend was delighting in making sure she drank after calling him out on his lack of a buzz earlier in the night. She decided to send that vulgar gesture his way, only to be met with a playful air kiss in her direction. She and the princess saluted each other with their glasses before taking their sips.

For someone who thought she hated Aelin Galathynius, she really, really liked her.

Aedion changed the direction of his fingers, bringing Lysandra’s attention back to his hand beneath the hem of her sweater. He alternated his small circles with gentle strokes up and down her lower spine, and she pretended not to notice as the others played their turns.

The prince tucked his face into her neck, his nose caressing the skin behind her ear. Lysandra’s breath caught at his attention to that sensitive spot, her toes curling involuntarily in her shoes.

His voice was low and husky as he spoke softly into her ear. “Never have I ever wanted someone the way I want you.”

He placed a gentle nip to her jawbone, just below her ear, for emphasis.

She was going to explode if he continued at this rate. Her core clenched at the sound of his voice, not that she planned to admit it. She turned her attention to him subtly.

“You’re not playing properly if you lie.”

Her words were too breathy, too meek to concern her partner. His blue eyes scanned her face thoroughly before he smiled at her and responded.

“I assure you I’m not lying,” he said. “But I told you the night I met you that I hadn’t decided if my intentions with you were proper or improper.”

A laugh died in her throat. The urge to grab his face and kiss him senseless had only grown as the night went on.

“And have you? Decided?”

Rather than respond, Aedion set his drink on the small table nearby. Anyone watching them would assume he was adjusting her weight across his lap nonchalantly, his hand leaving her back to hook around her hip and the other gripping her thigh to pull her closer to his body. Lysandra might have assumed the same until she felt the impression of his hardened length against her other hip, sending heat to every square inch of her body. The prince merely leaned over to grab his glass, his hand resuming its ministrations along the small of her back.

She marveled at his ability to seem so unaffected, despite the private evidence to the contrary. It made her wonder if she had a fraction of his game face; his absolutely infuriating game face. Lysandra wasn’t feeling particularly satisfied with that.

Her hand trailed over his shoulder and rested on the back of his neck. The prince hummed appreciatively at the contact as she laced her fingers into his golden waves. She scratched delicately at his scalp in innocent affection until she felt he was distracted enough to let his guard down. Remembering how he had nearly unraveled at the action earlier in the evening, she flexed her fingers tightly; not enough to move his head but enough to give that sharp ache right at the root of his hair.

Aedion’s eyelids fluttered shut for milliseconds before he mastered himself enough to shoot a heated glare her way. His pupils were blown wide, nearly engulfing the beautiful turquoise that usually resided there. A quiet groan thrummed through his chest, and Lysandra felt it keenly against her body.

“Now you’re abusing your knowledge.”

She let out a soft chuckle at his bitter muttering, fully delighting in seeing him fluster. For good measure, she adjusted her hips to press her backside more firmly into his lap.

“ _Fuck,”_ he muttered into her shoulder, his voice gravelly as he attempted to stifle a moan*. “*Alright, I surrender. I’m only human.”

She flashed a naive smile his way, her fingers resuming their innocent patterns as before. It seemed the prince was feeling particularly sensitive, for he only tolerated it for another minute or two before taking her hand in his own and bringing it to his lips.

“Sorry— too much?”

“Usually, no,” he admitted quietly, pressing a series of kisses to her knuckles. “But if you could see inside my mind right now, you would know that you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, and the eye contact alone turned her into a puddle. She resisted the urge to tell him she didn’t need to see his thoughts to empathize with his plight. Instead, she gave in a little and pressed a chaste kiss to his pillow-soft lips.

“They really are kind of gross, aren’t they?” Dorian remarked to Lorcan, in reference to his earlier commentary.

A smile stretched across her lips, making the end of their kiss rather difficult. Aedion seemed to agree and caught the back of her neck before she could pull away to press an equally chaste kiss to her mouth in retribution.

Before Lysandra could think of anything clever to say in their defense, Aelin opened her mouth. She wasn’t sure if that comforted or scared her.

“Please. We won’t see gross until Manon arrives tomorrow. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, your Majesty, that some of us have seen the two of you making eyes at each other.” She shuddered as she sipped her drink to make her point.

Dorian rolled his eyes at the princess, and it was enough for everyone to understand the implication. He didn’t feel inclined to take such criticisms from Aelin of all people, especially when Rowan Whitethorn was within a few hundred feet of her.

Aedion’s chuckle vibrated against her, and she realized that she delighted in his happiness. What she had spent weeks convincing herself was the result of hormones and mutual physical attraction was anything but, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t scare her.

A conversation for later, she decided.

Lorcan was the first on his feet, extending his long body into a stretch. “Speaking of the queen, I think I’d better go rest up if I’m to be decent company tomorrow.”

“So, sleep deprivation would be the only reason for you being unpleasant around Manon Blackbeak?” Aedion countered.

“It wouldn’t help things, would it?” He replied rhetorically, waving to the group and turning to go inside.

The others followed suit, the fire having started to die down anyway. Nerves worked their way through Lysandra at the idea of going upstairs, but upon further inspection, she decided they weren’t the negative kind.

Considering their antics all evening, she assumed their pace to their chambers would be more urgent, more hectic. Aedion seemed content to walk casually with her hand-in-hand while they talked about nothing. It was oddly comforting to find that he was so willing to spend time doing nothing special, if only to spend time with her one-on-one.

Lysandra reached their door first, walking through as she spoke to Aedion over her shoulder. Once the door latched shut behind them, a quiet stillness settled over the large room. She was busy kicking off her shoes and fiddling with her braid to let her strands down when she felt a large hand grip her gently by the wrist.

Her body twisted slowly under his grip, her face cupped in Aedion’s hands seconds later. She had barely processed the change in position when his lips were on hers, kissing her thoroughly in a way that made her almost dizzy. Finding herself powerless under his attention, she gripped the sides of his tee with white knuckles, tugging him flush against her with an urgency that would normally make her bashful.

Aedion moaned against her mouth, bringing the flush from earlier back to her entire body. His kisses didn’t immediately increase in intensity; instead a bright smile flashed across his tan face. He pulled back to look at her; his thumbs trailing gently over her cheekbones before he moved his hands to finish releasing her long braid.

“Pardon the interruption. I just— I needed to do that.”

He stared resolutely at her braid, his voice almost timid with the admission. Lysandra’s chest squeezed with affection for this man, who was equal parts boyishly charming and toe-curling depending on the situation. He finished unraveling her hair and moved his fingers to her scalp to massage away any ache from having her hair tied, eliciting an indecent whimper from her lips.

The prince’s mouth was on hers again, but the kiss was urgent, claiming. Lysandra returned it in kind, pressing on his hips to guide him into the corner of the small entryway. The only sounds through the space were their breaths until Aedion groaned loudly, pulling her hips tightly against his own.

“You can’t make sounds like that, Lys. I’ll lose my mind,” he murmured against her mouth, resuming his torture immediately.

“Fine. Lose it.”

Her hands reached beneath the hem of his shirt and ran greedily over his chest and abdomen. She marveled at his build as his muscles flexed under her touch; as if her fingers alone sent shockwaves through each one of them. Without so much as a conscious thought, she pulled the tee over his head, silently lamenting having to separate from him to do so.

Aedion's eyes met hers once freed from his shirt, his hands lifting slowly to hold her gently by her upper arms. His hands caressed her softly as he looked down at her, a look of adoration etched into his handsome face. Lysandra pressed a long kiss to his sternum in response, and his hands twitched slightly as if fighting the urge to pull her roughly into him.

“ _Shit_ , Lys. I—“

Her delicate fingers traced his collarbones, her hands sliding over his shoulders and behind his neck. She made eye contact as she pressed kisses down the length of his torso, his breath hitching once she made her way to the soft trail of hair beneath his belly button.

"Is it okay if I..." she trailed off, hand hovering above the drawstring of his lounge pants.

Aedion only nodded vigorously, his hands moving to help her relieve him of the offending garment. Lysandra took her time admiring his form as she pressed chaste kisses along his length over the cotton of his boxers. His eyes turned molten as his cock twitched under her affections, letting out a small groan as she made her way back up to his mouth.

She kissed him roughly. His hands were everywhere; clutching her waist, her shoulders, the swell of her ass. Everything began and ended with the prince of Terrasen.

“What do you want, love?” he groaned, his tone a level of sensual that should have been illegal.

“You,” she whimpered. “I want to taste you.”

Aedion moaned into her mouth, his hips rolling against hers in a steady rhythm. “Gods, please. Please, Lysandra.”

She tore her mouth away from his to pepper kisses along his jaw and the long, thick column of his neck.

“And I really want you to keep saying that.”

“Please?”

“No. My name.”

Of all the sweet and sexy things that man had ever said to her, those moments where he uttered her real name made her weak most consistently. The acknowledgment that this was happening between the two of them and not the partners working a mission together was everything.

His responding grin was nearly feral as she worked down his body once more and discarded his boxers. Aedion’s hands were braced tightly on each side of his hips, perched on the decorative moulding in the entry way, and Lysandra only hoped it wouldn’t cave under the force of his grip.

She stroked him a couple of times as she wet her lips. “I feel like I should —ah— know this already, but—“ He paused as she took him into her mouth for the first time. “ _Shit_ — what’s your middle name? I’ll— _fuck_ — I’ll say the whole damn thing if you want.”

The laugh that bubbled out of her as she moved over his cock had his hips snapping forward of their own accord, but Aedion managed to huff a laugh with her as well. For the most part, anyway, because it very quickly evolved into a choked moan as she increased the speed of her bobbing and added a hand for what she couldn’t accommodate.

Aedion’s head thudded as it fell back to the wall, his eyes closed and lips parted as she worked. Lysandra slowed her pace again, twisting her hand while she moved very deliberately down his length. A long, throaty moan was her reward as he looked at her beneath heavy lids, one of his large hands leaving the wall to thread his fingers through her hair. He brushed it gently over her shoulder to keep it from her face before cupping her cheek and stroking over it with a calloused thumb.

“C’mere,” he rasped, flexing his fingers to encourage her upward.

She stood, his lips crashing into hers before she was completely upright. He tugged urgently at the hem of her sweater, tossing it to the side as he walked her backward into the room.

The feeling of his skin against hers was sending her places, and she realized then that he hadn’t even gotten her bottoms off yet. What was it going to do to her to finally be with him that way?

The prince ducked suddenly, but before she could wonder about his intentions, he was lifting her over his shoulder to carry her to the bed. A squeal left Lysandra’s lips at the swift change in position, earning a playful bite from Aedion over the curve of her waist. Although meant to be playful, she was sure the warmth of his mouth over her sensitive stomach had her soaked immediately; if it wasn’t already the case.

Aedion tossed her onto the king bed unceremoniously with a laugh, extending his long body to settle over her. Lysandra laughed despite her best attempt to look miffed at his manhandling, her hands coming up to pet his golden hair away from his face. She took in the sharpness of his cheekbones, his jaw, the fullness of his blond brows as she used her thumbs to rub gently near the corners of his full mouth.

“I wasn’t quite done with you, you know,” she teased quietly, earning a heated but amused glare from the man atop her.

Aedion lowered his mouth to her neck, his lips skimming over her pulse point as he spoke. “I think you know me better than to assume I’d come without taking care of you.” She shivered at the promise in his words.

Lysandra tried to throw all the banter and the overthinking out the window; to just _be_. Aedion’s callouses running all over her body was intoxicating, and she quickly found herself writhing beneath him if only to feel as much of him as possible. Somewhere along the way, her bottoms were shed and discarded the gods only knew where. That was a problem to be solved way later— if she even cared to do so.

Her eyes fluttered open to see Aedion sitting back on his heels as he took in her form appreciatively. He ran his fingers in a teasing motion up her legs as he settled between her thighs and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.

“Tell me what else you want, Lys.” He reached down between their bodies to stroke her, the pressure only enough to have her craving friction.

“You,” she whimpered. “Touch me. Please.”

A smile spread across his mouth as he increased his pressure, inserting a finger into her as she cried out. “Such good manners, love.”

Lysandra didn’t have the sense to answer, the snark to come back at his teasing. Aedion kissed her hungrily as her breath quickened, inserting another finger into her as his thumb found the proper rhythm over her clit.

“Oh gods,” she keened against his lips. “Aed, I— I’m— please don’t stop.”

Aedion propped himself on his elbow to look down into her face. The intimacy of it may have made her bashful with someone else, under different circumstances maybe, but not with the man above her. Her breath quickened as she neared her release, her lungs seemingly incapable of taking in enough air.

“That’s it, Lysandra. Come for me, baby.”

She did, her whole body seeming to tense impossibly before release barreled through her. Turning her face to his bicep, she cried out, using his arm to muffle her cries rather than allowing them to echo across the palace of a foreign nation. Aedion stroked her gently to ease her down, kissing her gently on the temple until she recovered.

Lysandra was very aware of his length pressing against her inner thigh, and despite the pleasure still lingering in her bones, she found herself ready for him yet again. Her hips rolled against him as she turned to claim his mouth, his hand moving to stroke himself with the wetness still coating his hand. Her hand ran down his back and around, covering his hand with her own as he stroked himself.

“Let me,” she whispered against his mouth, her voice husky from use.

Aedion moaned deliciously into their kiss, his hips canting with the motions of her hand. He reached down to hook his hand behind her knee, pulling it around his hip to line them up almost perfectly. Lysandra stopped her ministrations to line him up with her entrance, they two of them groaning as he eased into her. He paused to allow her to adjust to his generous size, taking the motion of her hips as his hint to start moving.

“You... feel incredible,” he praised, tucking his face into her neck as they moved together.

Lysandra gripped the hair at his nape, her other hand seeking purchase between his shoulders. Her only response was a satisfied moan as he stroked that spot within her. Her core clenched around him as she neared climax again, her fingers flexing firmly into the flesh of his shoulders.

Aedion quickened his pace, their moans almost desperate as they neared release together. Lysandra angled her hips to try and maximize the friction across that magical spot so deep within her, her impending climax making her nearly frantic.

“ _Aedion_ ,” she cried out, maybe a little louder than she should have. She wished she could care about trivial things like the volume of her voice.

He pressed kisses into the skin of her neck, across her collarbone. The rhythm and speed of his hips never faltered.

“Arch your back for me, baby,” he ordered softly. Lysandra complied without question.

She had assumed it to be an angle preference for him until she felt it; that absolutely perfect stroke against the spot she so desperately tried to isolate. Judging by the increased volume of Aedion’s groans, the angle wasn’t bad for either of them.

Within seconds she was free falling again, her hips jerking against him as she came. Aedion’s hips started to stutter, and then, he was pressing them tightly into hers as he called out her name against her shoulder. He stayed pressed deeply into her as the aftershocks of her orgasm clenched around him, pressing his weight into her as they both came down.

Lysandra drew idle patterns against Aedion’s back, listening to the rhythms of their breathing. He hummed his appreciation occasionally as he pressed soft kisses to her shoulder. The two of them stayed that way for some time, trading affections atop the sheets.

Aedion was the first to move. He rolled to his back and pulled her onto his chest, running his fingers through her hair lazily.

“I could stay here until we fly home, I think,” Aedion mused.

“Mmm. I would get very grouchy once I’m hungry.”

Her head shook with the movement of his chest, his laugh making her skin pebble.

“Besides, I need to go wash my hair to meet Queen Manon tomorrow.”

Aedion groaned as his lips brushed her forehead, and his arm tightened around her. “No. Stay here.”

It was her turn to laugh into the quiet room. “You know I’m a terrible morning person. I need to, or I’ll run late.”

“Fine. Care for some company?” Aedion asked, already sitting up to grab his things.

“Sure, but no funny business. In and out, so we can get some sleep.”

His attention snapped to her face in mock defensiveness, his mouth slightly agape as he looked at her. “Excuse me. You started this!”

His eyes softened when he realized she was eyeing him appreciatively from her position on the pillows.

“I did not! But remind me to thank Dorian for the accommodations. The view is fantastic here,” she teased, very clearly running her eyes over his form.

Aedion’s grin turned amused as he stopped at the foot of the bed. He kneeled on the mattress on one knee and lunged for Lysandra’s ankles, pulling her quickly down the bed and earning a high-pitched, startled sound from deep in her chest.

“Looks like we need a cold shower for you,” he teased, hovering over her to press kisses to her face and collarbone.

Lysandra moaned her protest at the idea through her laughter, swatting away his affections and following him into their bathroom. The pair stood closely beneath the spray of warm water before losing themselves in each other again.

Despite her earlier protests, they remained in the shower until the water ran cold, anyway.

—

Manon Blackbeak was beautiful in photos. Manon Blackbeak, in the flesh, was an ethereal experience. The group collected outside the palace to greet her, Dorian standing in the middle and slightly ahead of the rest of them. Her Majesty walked with the grace of a dancer and the balance of warrior, her head held high as if both at the same time. She was dressed entirely in black from her top to her heeled boots, save for her tailored blazer cape, which was a deep, blood-like red.

Dorian walked toward her, bending at the waist to greet her with a bow. He straightened his black suit jacket by the lapels, his small golden circlet gleaming in the sun against his hair, as blue eyes met ones of simmering gold.

“Hello, princeling.” Her slender fingers came up to straighten the red handkerchief in his jacket pocket.

“Hello, witching.”

The two exchanged sly smiles before Manon peered over Dorian’s shoulder, locking eyes with the princess.

“Aelin Galathynius,” she greeted.

“Thank you for coming, Manon.”

Lysandra looked to Aedion to look for any indication that he knew his cousin was the one to invite Manon to Adarlan. He masked his surprise well, but she caught it in the slight raise of his eyebrows.

Dorian brought the queen forward, in greeting to some and introduction to others. She was polite, diplomatic, yet she did not emanate the warmth that Lysandra so often encountered when meeting royalty. It appeared that her Majesty had no interest in pretense, no matter her rank. Something about Manon made her feel exposed, vulnerable even, as if she saw through every cell of Lysandra’s body.

The group collected in the same parlor as the day before. She felt as though a small lifetime had passed since then, finding the thought a little disorienting. Getting her brain around the game plan once they returned to Terrasen was all but impossible, even without this curve ball between Aelin and Manon.

The two women sat across from each other, both with their shoulders squared, legs crossed, and chins high. Rowan sat rigidly in the armchair next to Aelin, and Dorian looked no more comfortable in his seat adjacent to Manon.

“I have to admit; I considered not coming.”

Certainly not how Lysandra would have broken the ice, but she supposed Manon Blackbeak was full of the unexpected. Aelin’s answering smile was tight.

“How fortunate for my court that you deigned to grace us with your presence.”

Dorian’s hand lifted to pinch the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed in anxiety and a little frustration.

“I felt compelled by curiosity to hear from you directly about what you could need from me. Plus, I owed a good friend a favor.”

Lysandra suddenly felt a little guilt about the tension she and Aelin demonstrated during their first meetings together. It was very uncomfortable as a bystander.

“Then I guess I should be thanking Dorian instead since— wait. What do you mean ‘hear from you directly’?” Aelin’s facial expression shifted from cold indifference to curiosity within seconds.

“It was only weeks ago that your lords visited the Western Wastes to inquire about an alliance with Terrasen. I found it odd that you didn’t bother to join them, yet you felt it appropriate to ask me to travel to meet you in Adarlan.”

The princess’ face was pale. She clearly didn’t have knowledge of said trip, nor did she take kindly to the surprise.

“Manon, I didn’t send them,” she breathed.

“Once I worked through the sequence of events, I wondered that. Your reaction only confirms my suspicions. It appears we have a lot to discuss.”

The court told the same story from the very beginning as they had so many times before. At this point, it was a well-rehearsed presentation of concise details and immaculate timing. Manon regarded each of them with infallible focus as they spoke, and Lysandra realized quickly why so many reported feeling intimidated by the queen. Dorian was the only contribution that hadn’t yet been rehearsed; his layer of the story being the very last.

“As of yesterday, Aelin and I are engaged to be married.”

The only indication that Manon was affected by the news was a blink of her eyes, mere milliseconds longer than usual.

“I see.”

“It’s only temporary— to buy the court time to figure things out regarding Arobynn Hamel,” Dorian insisted.

“You are free to do as you wish, princeling. You hardly need my permission.”

Dorian’s shoulders seemed to tense at her words, but he recovered quickly as he eased back into his chair. His piece of the puzzle was complete for now. Manon’s bright, golden eyes shifted to Aelin.

“That certainly gives some context to the lords’ visit. And to the questions they asked me regarding my parameters for an alliance.”

“Their visit confuses me all around. Did they mention any impending attacks on Terrasen? Or plans to attack elsewhere?”

“No, actually,” Manon began, her voice grave. “They were frustratingly vague throughout the meeting. I asked them a series of questions, but I don’t know that I got any closer to their purpose.”

“Care to share with the rest of us?” Lorcan bit, earning a snap of Manon’s head in his direction.

“Patience, Salvaterre. I tolerate you for a singular reason. Don’t tempt me to break any promises.”

Lorcan merely huffed a breath through his nose. It was unclear if he had nothing to say or if he thought better than to open his mouth again. To his credit, he managed to look unruffled by the queen’s clear threat.

“They had the nerve to ask me about my experience with civil war as if it were hundreds of years ago.” Manon’s expression was strained, showing evidence of her annoyance at the question regarding the political climate of her kingdom. “They used that as their transition to the potential of civil war in Terrasen and if it would ever deter me from forming an alliance given my history. I assumed at the time that he was referring to some small, petty grievance between two territories, and I assured them that matters of war are typically unique. There would be no issue in terms of approaching any scenario with objectivity.”

The room was silent as she spoke. When she realized no one planned to comment, she continued.

“My suspicion now is that they were trying to secure this alliance personally before you thought to do the same. Although they organized the meeting on the pretense that they were conducting business on your behalf, Aelin, I think their fixation with civil war may mean otherwise.”

“Considering the events of late, I’m inclined to agree with you,” the princess managed, her voice defeated.

“They made mention of balance in Terrasen; that they wanted to keep it safe from tyranny of any kind. ‘Tyranny’ seemed like the buzzword they thought would capture my attention; as if to weaponize the conflict I’ve had to mediate over the course of my short reign.”

The king was next to interject. “Sounds like they’re laying quite the foundation to paint Aelin as a tyrant and hoping it would be enough to motivate you to come to Terrasen’s aid.”

“Their short-sightedness will be their downfall,” Manon pointed out. “They’ve already subscribed to this prophecy that Aelin is a young, impetuous princess who cannot be trusted with the country they’ve managed thus far. Additionally, they assume me to be a young, naive queen; one that would make a knee-jerk decision to risk my own armies for the sake of being Terrasen’s hero.”

“And you’re not that queen,” Aelin commented, but her face showed that it was more of a question.

“My ego would never be so fragile.”

The two blondes shared a smile, and the idea of an alliance between them excited and frightened Lysandra all at once. She watched the brainstorming happening between the three young monarchs, the future of Erilea, and realized the only way to ensure the greater good of the nation was to get out of their way. The three of them were a wonderful representation of why the narrative against young leadership was irresponsible at best.

“What did you tell them?” Aelin asked.

“I told them I had much to consider and would send word once I decided.”

“Where do you lean? We could use your legions for support, Manon. If you align with the lords, even under the impression that it’s with Terrasen as a whole, Aelin’s life is very much in danger.”

Manon’s eyes snapped toward the king of Adarlan, the two of them having a silent conversation, it seemed.

“If I refuse, they’ll seek military alliance elsewhere,” she replied. Dorian opened his mouth to interrupt her, but she continued to speak. “So, I propose that I accept. They’ll be less likely to recruit additional allies, and should they aim to make any move against Aelin, it increases the odds that one of us would be informed beforehand. Hopefully you would have been able to iron all of this out before it comes to that.”

“How do I know that I can trust you?” Aelin’s voice was low but not meek.

“You don’t,” Manon replied frankly, her eyes sliding slowly from Dorian’s to meet Aelin’s gaze. “I have nothing to give you but my word. It’s up to you if you trust it or not.”

Aelin nodded, but she didn’t say anything as she considered.

“I gain nothing from keeping you from your throne in favor of men who can’t be bothered to do the proper research before asking a nation to align with them. Do with that information what you will.”

Lysandra wondered if anyone was breathing once the queen finished. They all looked around the room toward one another as they awaited what came next, curious if this would result in nothing but a stalemate.

“Aelin,” Dorian said quietly, leaning forward in the large armchair. “I understand your apprehension, but I trust her. And you know that I wouldn’t—“

The princess cut him off, jutting her arm out between herself and Manon. “Don’t make me regret this, Blackbeak.”

Manon extended a manicured hand to accept the offer, the two women shaking quickly on the alliance they had forged.

A sly, conspiratorial grin was the queen’s only answer.


	10. Part 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s) for strong language, mature content, and smut.

——————————————————————————

Dorian accompanied the group to the private runway where their plane was being prepared for the return trip to Terrasen. He said his goodbyes to Lorcan and Rowan, which were just as brief as their greetings upon their arrival in Adarlan, leaving him with only Lysandra and the golden cousins.

Aedion pulled the king into a brisk hug, clapping him on the back and telling him he would see him again soon. Dorian turned toward Lysandra upon releasing Aedion and opened his arms slightly to offer a hug to her as well. She readily accepted his affection, having grown quite fond of him over the course of their short visit. It was such a difference from the ball of nerves she had been when she met him originally.

“I enjoyed meeting you, Lysandra. The next time you find yourself in Adarlan, feel free to visit, yeah?”

The idea that the king of Adarlan was inviting her over so casually was a little surreal, but she appreciated the gesture. “I will. Thank you again for having me. I had a great time.”

“Good. Oh, and if you ever find the royal family of Terrasen to be a little arduous, Adarlan would love to have you.” A mirthful expression donned his handsome face, his stunning blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “I could always use another political strategist in my court, especially one with your cleverness and intuition.”

Lysandra’s cheeks burned at his praise, her heart swelling with an appreciation she would never be able to explain. For someone to appreciate her skills so readily when he had barely known her for a handful of days meant the world to her. All she had ever known was a career as an agent, so his offer in political strategy surprised her. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea.

“Not happening,” Aelin interrupted, her expression matching Dorian’s. “We’re pretty attached to her already, so we’ll take care in making sure she’s happy.”

Aedion took the opportunity to wrap his arm around Lysandra’s waist in a reassuring squeeze. It seemed as though he agreed whole-heartedly with his cousin.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Dorian conceded. “The offer stands, regardless.”

Lysandra could only nod in his direction, which was plenty considering Aelin was wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in farewell. The king chuckled slightly at her aggressive affection as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’ll miss you, Ae. Try not to start too much trouble before I see you again.”

“I can’t make any promises,” she snarked as she pulled away. “So, I’ll see you in Terrasen next week?”

“Of course. I would never make you announce our engagement alone,” he teased.

Aelin rolled her eyes affectionately at her friend. “Wow. How did I ever get so lucky?”

—

Lysandra settled into her seat next to Aedion, leaning into his side as she typed an “urgent” text to Arobynn.

> _L: Don’t have much time. Boarding the plane from Adarlan and will arrive late. I need to speak with you ASAP tomorrow morning, especially before we meet with the team. I have some information you’ll want to bring back to the lords. Let me know where to meet you._

“Sound okay?” she asked, looking to Aedion as he finished scanning the message.

“Perfect.”

She hit send just as a banner notification popped up with a reminder titled, _Eva_ 💛

“I thought you usually call Evangeline on Wednesdays?”

Anytime Aedion made mention of her sister, her heart swelled with affection. His mentioning her with an acknowledgement of their catch up ritual had it threatening to explode.

“Usually, yeah. Last week was hectic, so I had to reschedule. I’m sure she’ll fuss at me,” she replied, her words punctuated with an affectionate shake of her head.

“When you’re ten years old, getting blown off is quite the scandal.”

Lysandra huffed a laugh. “It is.” She considered her next question carefully, but she decided she had resisted the urge long enough. On their weekly phone calls, she had been able to artfully dodge any of Eva’s questions around her personal life, but the girl was only going to be satisfied with her redundant updates for so long. “I haven’t told her that you and I are working together, or anything else about us, for that matter. Would you maybe want to meet her? Not formally, obviously, but over the phone.”

Her nerves had her talking more than necessary, but if Aedion noticed, he spared her the judgment. His eyes were soft as he met her gaze, and a smile bloomed across his face.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “of course.”

Lysandra pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to contain her smile. “Okay... good.”

The prince shifted in his seat to settle his head against her shoulder, closing his eyes and pulling her hand between both of his. He nuzzled his face gently against her neck.

‘You smell nice.”

“Oh, thank you. I bathed today,” she deadpanned.

Aedion laughed, but it was interrupted by a long yawn.

“Wake me when we’re almost home.”

_Home._

—

Lysandra had woken Aedion as promised when the pilot announced their descent over Orynth. He had slept like the dead, and as much as she would have loved to join him, her brain hadn’t cooperated. She reflected on their days in Rifthold, and initially, she was satisfied with the results of their trip. They had successfully gotten Dorian to agree to an arranged marriage with Aelin, and even though Lysandra had been ignorant to Manon’s invitation, the three young monarchs had developed a strategy going forward for Aelin’s safety. All around, they had done well to halt the lords of Terrasen and Arobynn Hamel in their tracks.

She usually got something akin to a high from an artfully solved dilemma, specifically when she had a hand in developing the strategy. Years upon years of pushing herself and proving her skill-level had made her that way, so the feeling of dread that immediately followed had been a little disorienting.

In the current scenario, the more successful they were, the closer she was to a fall from grace. Lysandra loved how working with Aelin’s court pushed her professionally, and she felt more connected to that group that she ever had with her colleagues at the Keep. For the first time in her life, she felt she knew what it was like to trust the people who worked alongside her.

She wasn’t naive or ignorant enough to assume the day would never come that this mission ended. The closest she had come to thinking about the logistics was the night before they flew to Adarlan, and Aedion had been the one to bring it up. Lysandra had been quick to redirect the conversation because the future still seemed a little far removed.

Maybe that was never true, and she had done well in convincing herself that it was. Admittedly, things were more complicated now that she and Aedion had crossed that proverbial line of intimacy in Adarlan. On top of that, she had just asked Aedion to meet her sister, for the gods sake. Nothing about introducing him to the single most important person in her life was the behavior of someone prepared to walk away from it all. She cursed her lack of forethought in presenting it to him, but her brain subconsciously refused to entertain anything about the possibility of Aedion being a temporary fixture in her life. How had she let herself get here?

Ruminating on it all had kept her eyes peeled until the Staghorn Mountains had come into view through the airplane window. Now she was trudging heavily next to Aedion toward his chambers, the long flight making her body stiff. He took her things from her once they entered his suite, instructing her to go sit in a plush armchair near the window. By the time she was settled, there was a light knock on the door; someone delivering a small pot of tea from the kitchens.

Aedion carried it over to the small table and sat in the chair adjacent to hers. Both chairs faced the window, yet were slightly angled toward the other, allowing them to chat while enjoying the view of the Staghorns. The tea was mild, perfect for the evening hour, and the heat of it soothed Lysandra’s nerves and body alike.

“Are you okay if I go ahead and call Eva? Before it gets too late?”

“Of course. Whatever works for you.”

Lysandra mindlessly scrolled to the appropriate contact and communicated who she was calling to the school’s operator on the other end. She placed her phone on speaker, and after only a few rings, Evangeline’s voice carried through the room. Longing crashed into Lysandra at hearing her little sister. It had been way too long since they had spent time together.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eva.”

“LYS! I thought maybe you forgot. It’s late.”

“I know,” she replied, her heart a little broken. “I would never forget about you though.”

“Good. So what are you doing? What took you so long to call?”

She should have known her sister wouldn’t let her off the hook.

“I just got back from Adarlan, actually. The plane landed maybe half an hour ago, otherwise I would have called earlier. I went for work.”

“Oh. That’s kind of cool. Did you go by yourself?”

Lysandra looked over to Aedion, who wore an amused grin at Eva’s rapid questioning. She shot him a small eye roll at her sister’s nosiness.

“Mm, no. I went with my co-worker,” she replied, choosing to leave out the majority of the details of who all travelled to Rifthold. That wasn’t something she had the energy to unpack with such an inquisitive sibling. “We just started working together a couple of months ago. He’s been great, though.”

“Is he cute? What’s his name?”

Aedion’s right brow quirked up at the question, as if he was morbidly interested in hearing her response.

“He is,” she replied casually. Her sister was far too young for the details. “His name is Aedion. Aedion Ashryver.”

Silence filled the room for a few seconds while Evangeline processed the information. Her shrill voice caused both of them to jump once she found it.

“WHAT? Isn’t that— wait. YOU WORK WITH PRINCE AEDION?”

Lysandra bit the inside of her cheek to conceal her laugh, only made more difficult by the playful exasperation on Aedion’s face. She chuckled softly before she answered her sister.

“Yes. I can’t really get into the details, but we’re partners for the foreseeable future. He’s a really nice guy.”

“How could you work with him for TWO months and not tell me?”

She grimaced a little at the offense in her voice. That was a fair question.

“To be honest, I don’t know. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, really. But we’ve spent a lot of time together now, and I wanted you to know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I guess. So do you like him? Like, _like him_ like him? You said he’s really nice.“

“Alright, enough with the questions, Eva. He’s here, by the way. Do you want to meet him?”

“Uhh, _yeah_ I do. But, really! Tell me. Please, Lys.”

Aedion oriented his body a little more in her direction, eyeing her expectantly over the rim of his mug as he took a sip. She almost sent a vulgar gesture his way, mostly because she knew he was more than informed on the matter.

“He’s growing on me,” she replied dryly. Aedion winced as if she had wounded him. “Here, I’ll let you talk to him.”

She shoved the phone closer to him, and he reached out to grab it. His voice was polite and soft as he gracefully greeted Eva, and they shared casual conversation like he’d know her for years. Evangeline told him about her boarding school, how much she loved it, and how the only downside was that she didn’t get to see her sister as much. They discussed her favorite subjects and the book she was reading. The attention he paid in learning about her little sister was incredibly endearing.

“Oh, hey. Aedion, I gotta go. It’s getting close to bedtime.”

“I’m sorry I kept you. I’ll let you say bye to your sister. It was nice meeting you, Evangeline.”

“Wait, before you go. Be nice to Lys, okay? She’s my only family.”

“You have my word. I promise.”

Tears rimmed her lower eyelids as Aedion passed her phone back, an unreadable emotion on his face.

“Hello?” She thanked the gods that her voice didn’t shake.

“Hey, Lys. I gotta go because it’s bedtime. Are you still calling on Wednesday?”

“Of course, love. Get some rest. I love you.”

“Love you too! Bye!”

Lysandra ended the call and set her phone lightly on the table. A single tear finally slipped from her eye, and she hurried to brush it away. It hadn’t been quick enough to hide from Aedion though, who grabbed her hand and pulled it to prompt her to go over to him. She settled into his lap, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“She’s a great kid. I really like her,” he said, wrapping her tightly in a hug.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She missed her so much, and after her thoughts on the plane, she was overcome with guilt. The idea that she was putting Evangeline in any kind of danger by involving herself with Aelin’s court was eating her from the inside out.

“She really is,” she breathed, tightening her arms around his shoulders.

“I get it, you know? Her being a little protective... I’ve felt that, especially when Aelin and I were younger. All that has been creeping back up on me as of late.”

Without even trying, Aedion made her feel seen, understood; as if he had plucked the sentiment straight from her brain. Although he and Aelin’s age gap was far smaller, he understood Lysandra’s emotions around her sister’s words better than anyone could. He had lived his entire life with a sense of obligation to ensure his little cousin’s safety, only for it to be threatened over and over again.

“I get that.” Her voice was quiet, timid. “And all I can think about is what if I mess this up? What if I leave her to navigate life completely alone?”

“Hey,” he chided, pulling back to look at her. “None of that, alright? Lysandra, you’re the most brilliant woman I have ever known. Evangeline couldn’t be in more capable hands.”

The prince pulled her into him again, and she readily tucked her face into his neck. He rested his cheek against her temple.

“Plus,” he began, mirth lacing his words. “If you really just fuck _everything_ up—“ He paused to laugh as she swatted playfully at the back of his head. “I’m here. I’ll help you fix it; whatever it is.”

Any trace of amusement was gone as he finished, and Lysandra knew he meant every word. She pulled her face away from his neck to look at him, eyes shining.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do. We’ve made a great team.” He pressed his lips to hers, bringing one of his large hands to cradle her face gently.

“Yeah,” she breathed against his lips. “We have.”

—

Anticipation had Lysandra rising out of bed far earlier than usual the next morning. She had fallen asleep with various hypotheticals dancing around in her head, despite the comforting warmth of Aedion's body pressed against hers. They hadn't shifted all night, which she assumed was the result of travel fatigue, and she had woken up with her face tucked tightly into his chest, her head beneath his chin.

Extracting herself from his grip to go get into the shower had been difficult at best. Her movements were careful and slow; an attempt to jostle the prince minimally and avoid waking him earlier than necessary. Padding on silent feet to the bathroom, she turned the water on and threw her hair into a bun atop her head.

She stood facing the hot water of the shower, letting the steam cocoon her as she tilted her head back to avoid getting her hair wet. Minutes passed as she let the water relax her stiff muscles; lost in thought once again. The sound of the shower door opening startled her, her eyes snapping open to find Aedion holding the door only wide enough to see her. His hair was wild from sleep, one turquoise eye squinting against the light and the other one squeezed tightly shut. Lysandra chuckled softly at the sight of him.

"Well, hi, Sunshine."

"Hey," he rasped sleepily. "can I come in?"

Lysandra took a step back to share the spray of water, reaching her hand toward him in invitation. His hand was heavy in hers as he stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind him. The low, indecent moan that rumbled through his chest at the warm water had her thoughts moving in a very different direction. Lysandra restrained herself, choosing instead wash her body as he joined the waking world.

"Why are you up so early?" he complained, his eyes still closed.

She huffed a laugh at her child-like partner. "I couldn't sleep. You could have stayed in bed a little longer, you know."

Aedion only grunted his disapproval, tilting his head back to wet his hair. He ran his fingers roughly through it before blindly feeling around for the shampoo. His brow furrowed in impatience as he batted around for the bottle. Lysandra couldn't resist the urge to mess with him and pulled the bottle off the small shelf of the shower. She wondered how long he would stubbornly feel around for it until his bright blue eyes snapped open incredulously, looking at the small shelf as if it had insulted him.

Her quiet laugh snapped his attention toward her, understanding flashing across his face. A smirk worked its way across his full mouth. Before she knew it, he had her wrapped tightly against him, the shampoo bottle pressed between them. He lowered his mouth to her neck, beads of water sliding from his face onto her shoulder.

"That was mean, Lys." He nipped gently at her neck, and her body arched into him without her permission.

"It woke you up, didn't it?" Her voice only held a fraction of the bravado she intended. His proximity interfered greatly with her plans.

"I suppose so," he breathed, his nose trailing along the column of her neck. He reached between them with one hand, gripping the shampoo bottle tightly. "Can I have this?"

Her only response was to release it, if only to eliminate the distance between their bodies. She expected him to pull away in favor of washing his hair, but the prince dropped the bottle unceremoniously to the stone floor of the shower. His attention seemed to reside with her alone.

"What am I going to do with you, Lysandra?" he purred, his hands gripping her hips and making her pliant against him.

"Whatever it is," she began, whimpering as his teeth pulled at her earlobe, "make it good."

A dark chuckle vibrated within his chest. He spun her around toward the shower wall, and she braced herself against it on her forearms.

"Do you know what still haunts me?"

She shook her head back and forth, not trusting herself to speak when his mouth was moving against the sensitive skin of her shoulder.

"That night when we got back from the Ferian... you asked for help getting out of that dress." One of his hands left her hip in favor of trailing his index finger slowly down her spine. The sensation had her back bowing, and Aedion hissed as her backside pressed against his length. He wasn't deterred from his ministrations. "I sent you away, but gods, Lysandra. That was the last thing I wanted." Once his finger reached the end of her spine, just above the swell of her backside, he gripped one of her cheeks tightly in his hand, angling her hips toward him further.

"Fuck," she muttered, resting her head back against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, seatbelting her against him by resting his hand on her opposite shoulder. His nose resumed its torture across her cheek and down her neck. "What did you want instead?" she taunted. She knew, but she was dying to hear him say it.

"Full disclosure?" His lips ghosted over the shell of her ear as he spoke. Lysandra nodded vigorously at his question, her word count already exhausted in her lust. "I wanted to fuck you senseless."

Her knees nearly gave out at his honesty, but the prince held her tightly against him.

" _Aedion_ —" she moaned, crashing her lips into his. She brought one hand around to grip the back of his head, hoping to keep him as close to her as possible. "Please."

He was happy to oblige, angling himself to slid into her. She rested her head on his chest as he pressed into her, his hand sliding to her hip to pull her against him fully. His mouth descended on hers again as they adjusted to each other, the sound of her panting encouraging Aedion to move.

Lysandra made to move her hips against him, but the combination of his hand around her hip and the gentle downward pressure of the arm across her chest had her anchored against his body. At this angle, his cock was resting against that tender spot within her, the sensation of it almost too much.

Aedion's thrusts were shallow, the movement of his hips staccato as he worked toward her pleasure. Her knees were weak as he brushed that spot repeatedly, and she knew her release wasn't far off.

" _Ah_ — Aedion. Right there. Just like that."

The man groaned into her mouth, his kiss swallowing her own moans threatening to echo within the small shower. Her body clenched impossibly tighter around him until she shattered, leaning heavily against Aedion as she cried out. With only a few more thrusts Aedion was coming with her, slamming his hips home so deeply that she rocked onto her tiptoes with the force of it. She still held the back of his head with an iron grip, and she was grateful that her other forearm hadn't completely turned to jello as Aedion's weight sagged against her.

His forehead dropped to her shoulder. "Shit," he whispered as his chest heaved against her back, both of them shuddering as he pulled away from her.

Lysandra turned to him, her own chest heaving for air, too. "Yeah," she agreed, cupping his face to kiss him sweetly on the lips. She repeated the gesture several more times before pulling away and bending to grab the discarded bottle from the shower floor.

"Here," she offered, a grin on her face. "Didn't you need this?"

Aedion snatched the bottle from her, laughing softly. "I do. Got a little off track, I guess."

"Happens to the best of us."

—

The shower had been a quite effective distractor, as it turned out. Lysandra had been able to get out of her head enough to evaluate the morning objectively over her breakfast, her spiral officially disrupted. She resisted teasing Aedion that he had fucked her the opposite of senseless, being that morning tea didn't exactly seem like the time to mention it.

The prince had insisted on driving her straight to the Keep, pulling over a few paces away to pull her face to his for a kiss. "I know you won't, but I'm going to say it anyway. Don't take his shit, okay? He's not going to like the news a bit, but don't let him make you feel responsible for it. If you need me—"

"I'll call," she insisted, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. "I promise."

"Okay," he breathed, his eyes scanning her with an emotion she couldn't place. "Keep me posted."

Lysandra gathered her things and exited the vehicle, walking up the steps to the Keep with renewed purpose. She scanned the text she had received from Arobynn the night before as she approached.

> _Arobynn: Annie checked all schedules and was able to push our group debrief to 9am. Come straight to my office when you arrive, and we'll talk. Just the two of us._

She paused with her hand on the door handle, pulling in a deep breath to keep her nerves even. Shoulders squared, she entered the building and walked directly to Arobynn's office. True to his word, he was the only one present. She slipped inside and shut the door, sliding into one of the arm chairs across from him.

"So, I take it this has something to do with the confidential information I shared with you prior to your trip?"

Straight to the point then.

"It does. I needed you to know as soon as possible so that you could relay the message to the lords; especially before the news hits the media outlets," she stated, urgency laced intimately with her words.

Arobynn sat straighter in his chair, his eyes widening slightly with something similar to concern.

"I— I believed Aelin to be great friends with King Dorian. I didn't realize that they.. that they were involved." Arobynn's facial expression told her she was selling her story well, that he was just as surprised as she. "That's why Aedion invited me to accompany them to Rifthold; to spend time with Aelin and Dorian."

Her boss pinched his nose in exasperation, blinking up at her once he finished. "Lysandra, this changes everything."

"That's not all, Arobynn. They're engaged. King Dorian proposed to Aelin while we were in Rifthold. He arrives next week to announce it publicly."

"But what of the prince from Doranelle? Whitethorn? I had on good authority that she's romantically involved with him."

"That's what I thought, too," she agreed. "He serves as her personal Guard. Nothing more, according to Aedion."

Lysandra left out any information regarding Queen Manon's visit. They had decided as a court that it would only raise suspicion to mention it. She and Arobynn discussed a few more details regarding the timeline of the announcement before he decided that he needed to call a meeting with the lords immediately.

"I won't be able to attend the brief at 9am. This needs to be dealt with first and foremost. I need you to run it in my stead, Lysandra. "

"Of course. Anything you need."

She still had a few minutes until the meeting to prepare notes of what she could share and what she couldn't. There were so many moving parts to this whole thing; things she knew that Arobynn told her not to share, things she knew that Aelin asked her not to share, and things she knew that could be shared with the team. Getting her wires crossed wasn't really an option.

The meeting was short and sweet. Once she weeded out the information that she wasn't allowed to divulge, she honestly didn't have much in way of an update for the rest of the team. Considering she was the one to lead it though, there were very few questions asked by her colleagues. It seemed a little too good to be true, but she was grateful that her morning had gone smoothly up to that point. She had overthought it all for nothing.

A couple of hours later, she was sitting at her desk completing case notes when Tern knocked on her office door. She turned toward him in polite greeting, inviting him into her office to sit. The man declined, stating he couldn't stay long, and Lysandra would be lying if she said she wasn't a little relieved.

"So what can I do for you? Do you have something for the Galathynius case?"

"Nah," he stated, his shoulder leaning against the doorjamb. "Just curious, is all."

Her blood ran a little colder, but she wasn't quite sure why.

"Curious about what?"

"You. That case. I've been watching, you know. I think you know more than you let on, and I want to know why you don't come out with it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I just briefed all of you this morning," she countered, thankful that her voice came out as confident as she intended.

"Yeah, but things don't always add up that beautifully do they?" Tern took a step back out of the doorway, but his eyes never left hers. When she didn't respond, he huffed a laugh and continued.

"You're hiding something. I'm going to figure out what it is."

He turned on his heel and walked away; just in time to miss Lysandra bending behind the desk to empty her stomach into the wastebasket.


	11. Part 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s) for strong language and mature themes.

——————————————————————————

For all her sneaking around over the past couple of months, Lysandra seemed to struggle most with discretely disposing of her office trash without getting interrupted. She had managed to get the bag tied, but anytime she stood to walk it out to the dumpster, one of her colleagues would seem to need her at that exact moment. It wasn’t ideal to have a bag of vomit sitting in her office, but after her brief conversation with Tern, she felt she couldn’t risk any of them knowing of her anxiety-induced illness. Suddenly, it seemed like there were eyes everywhere on her every move. It took hours to finally rid herself of the salient reminder.

The day wasn’t a total wash. Annie sent her an email regarding the itinerary for Evangeline’s travel to Orynth for the long Yulemas holiday, per Arobynn’s request. Although it was a couple of weeks away, Lysandra’s heart fluttered with anticipation of hugging her sister. Considering her obscene stress level, time with Eva seemed like the only thing in the world that could bring her back down.

She caught herself smiling down at her phone; at the text from Aedion stating he was on his way to pick her up from work. The longest day in eternity was finally drawing to a close, but as luck would have it, Arobynn strolled into her office just as she was gathering her things. She greeted him politely, pausing her packing to provide her full attention.

“I won’t keep you long, pet.” He paused to shut the door behind him, and Lysandra wondered if Tern was taking a mental note of the action somewhere. “I have a pseudo-update from the lords.”

“A pseudo-update... what does that entail?”

Arobynn huffed a laugh as he leaned back against her door, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Very little, I’m afraid. We spent much time in a meeting to arrive at almost no conclusion. By the end, all they had decided is that they aren’t so easily deterred by the news I brought forward. They unanimously agreed that it complicates matters, no doubt, but they hope to devise a plan in the near future for how to proceed.”

“So, we stay on the path we’re on then? I can try to be a fly on the wall as much as possible in case any new information surfaces.”

“I would appreciate that. Keep me informed as you always have. The lords plan to call a meeting with Aelin in the next few days to offer the original proposal. In light of this new information, they understand that she’ll likely refuse them. However, they still want to present the option prior to the news of her engagement to the king of Adarlan. “

“What good would it do if they expect her refusal?”

“That’s talk for another day, Lysandra. I promised not to keep you long.”

Arobynn pushed off the door and twisted the knob gently to signal the end of their conversation. Lysandra was hardly satisfied with his response, but she didn’t dare push it. Not in that moment.

Lysandra grabbed her things and walked briskly to the front of their building. As promised, Aedion was parked a few paces down, close to where he had dropped her off that morning. It took all of her self-control not to break into a light jog to reach the SUV more quickly, eager to leave the day very much in the past.

Aedion’s eyes brightened as he smiled in greeting, extending his hand for her bag so that he could place it in the backseat. She relinquished it quickly as she settled into her seat and pulled her seatbelt across her body. As his arm returned to the front, Aedion slipped his hand onto the back of her neck, gently massaging the tense muscles there as if they had nowhere to be.

“You have an okay day?”

“Busy,” she downplayed, not mentally prepared to debrief him on all of the events.

Her partner pulled her gently toward him to place a kiss to her lips, a familiar fire kindling in her bones at the feel of his mouth against hers.

“Well,” he murmured against her mouth, placing another warm kiss there before settling back into his seat, “I have some things to finish up with the Bane before I’m free for the day. Do you want to come to the palace with me and relax there for a bit? Or would you rather I drop you at home and have Lorcan meet us there?”

He moved to put the SUV in gear while he waited. Lysandra leaned her head back on the rest as she considered, her eyes dropping toward her lap as she felt Aedion’s warm fingers sliding in between hers. Those casual gestures of affection never failed to surprise her in private, regardless of the fact that they’d done much more than hold hands. The domesticity of the actions still threw her for a loop.

“Palace,” she decided, fully intending to make good use of Aedion’s massive bathtub while he finished his tasks for the day.

The prince’s mouth turned up at the corner in contentment with her answer. She squeezed his hand firmly in response, turning her head to look out of the window as Aedion checked his blind spot to merge into traffic. It was only then that Lysandra noticed Tern posted near the doors to the Keep with Harding, seemingly in conversation, but his eyes were trained solely on her.

—

Hellas worked fast, but Lorcan Salvaterre worked faster. He appeared promptly to meet her and Aedion in the entryway of the palace, clapping his hands together in front of him.

“I got it from here, Ashryver. We’ll see you later.”

Lysandra glared at the man in front of her, resentful that it sounded as if she was being passed from one babysitter to another. She supposed that’s exactly what was happening, depending on the perspective one chose to adopt. Unfazed by the Commander’s dismissal, Aedion leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her cheek, squeezing her hand in farewell.

Lorcan walked beside her toward Aedion’s quarters. It was a different dynamic than usual considering Lorcan served as her Guard outside the palace walls most often. If Lysandra was within Aedion’s quarters, the prince was typically the one with her, and it felt odd to be in such a personal space with someone else.

The man walked to the sitting area, pausing before the giant window that overlooked the Staghorns with his hands in his pockets. His silhouette against the mountainous backdrop was something grand and nearly beautiful. Lysandra wished in that moment that she was talented in the arts so that she could capture the moment for him. It seemed unjust that those closest to him wouldn’t get to experience it.

“So,” he began, turning around to look toward her, “are you feeling better?”

Lysandra’s brain emptied out; her only thoughts sounded like the shrill sound of audio feedback.

“What?”

“You were sick at work today. Are you okay?”

Rather than answer him, she felt compelled to jump immediately on the offensive.

“Your source?”

Lorcan gave an almost imperceptible nod before he replied. “They heard you getting sick from the hallway. You still haven’t answered the question.”

“I’ll answer yours when you tell me who the fuck you’re working with.” Emotions, so many repressed in recent days, came bubbling to the service. Her voice was razor sharp and quiet; too quiet.

The only person that would have been close enough to hear her retching into the trash can would have been Tern, who had left mere seconds prior. How the fuck could Lorcan not tell her he was working with Tern when he knew he gave her such shit? How could someone as competent and clever as Lorcan not see Tern for the snake he had always been? In what fucking universe had she agreed to help with a mission where the commander partnered with the man hellbent on sabotaging everything she touched?

To his credit Lorcan didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, at the venom in her tone. He seemed unimpressed entirely as he cocked his head to the side.

“We’ve been over this. I’m not at liberty to divulge that information.”

“Bullshit!” Lysandra nearly shouted. To her frustration, Lorcan remained as stoic as ever. She dropped her voice again, if for no other reason than to try and convince herself that she didn’t feel such a level of betrayal. “I get that you’re between a rock and a hard place because you made a promise to someone, but things are more complicated than they’ve ever been. Not knowing is making me nearly paranoid, and it’s just not sustainable; not without a clear end date for this mission.”

Lorcan looked pained as he drew his brows together and softly shook his head. His eyes dropped to the floor, and she almost sympathized with his internal struggle.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she breathed. “Lorcan, I need to know who’s watching me if I plan to keep putting myself in hot water constantly. You could at least do me the favor of establishing an ally outside of this court. I’m fucking exhausted.”

Her voice sounded pathetic even to her own ears, but she was past the point of caring. The commander’s patience started to fray at that. When he spoke, his tone was dark and malevolent; his words permeating the air all around her, like ink bleeding through water.

“Ennar, you knew the conditions of this mission when you agreed. This is something I was clear about on day one. I know the pressure you’re under, but—“

“You know _nothing_ of the pressure I’m under, Lorcan!” she exploded, unfairly aiming her anger straight at her friend’s chest. “Everyday, you’re you. You’re the commander of this mission. The only plans you execute are ones you have time to think tirelessly over, and your family isn’t being threatened at every turn by the people you’re manipulating!”

Lysandra’s chest heaved with the effort of her outburst. She should have known better than to take the lid off of that box because it felt impossible to stop. Lorcan made no moves to interrupt her.

“There’s not a second of any day that I’m not ‘on’, that I’m not constantly adapting to the situation I’m in at the time. For all the times I’ve lied straight-faced to my boss and colleagues, you would think it wouldn’t affect me anymore. But all I can see is Evangeline’s face and think about her life being a fucking mess if I fall apart. It’s all on me, every bit of this boils down to me. And you’re going to sit here and protect your pride and your word over doing the one thing you could do to support me?!”

“Stop!” Lorcan bellowed. “Judge me if it helps you sleep at night, but I’m doing what’s best for this mission. Whether you see that or not is another story, but as your commander—“

“Fuck being my commander, Lor. What about being my friend?” Her voice broke on the last word, her eyes lining with silver despite her adamant wishes to the contrary. His face fell as if she struck him, and she wondered if her words finally got through.

“Lys,” he murmured. “You know this mission has to come first.”

Those were not the words she wanted to hear, and they hurt in a way she hadn’t expected.

“Alright,” she conceded, her tone even and dry. “I get it. You’re doing your job as any good commander would.”

Just as Lorcan made to nod in her direction, his shoulders dropping slightly as he relaxed, the rest of her thoughts rushed out of her.

“I can see how it would be easy to make those decisions from your seat, where all you have to protect is yourself and this team. Some of us don’t have the luxury of being quite so black and white, I guess.”

She regretted the words the second they left her. Even if she’d believed them entirely as she spoke them, the truth remained that they were unfair and underhanded. Lorcan agreed with her if the blaze in his dark eyes was any indication.

“Do not claim to know what I have to protect,” he growled, teeth clenched. “You think I requested this mission for the glory; for my own health?”

He paused for only a second, nowhere near long enough for her to respond; not that she intended to do so anyway. He stalked forward as he spoke, but he paused several feet away from her, gesturing with his hands to punctuate his narrative.

“The lords in power are a threat to my own in their own right. There are other lords and ladies of various territories in Terrasen that don’t get a seat at their table; whose lives will be dictated by these decisions. Some of them risk the same as Aelin; never ruling over the land that is their birthright. Meanwhile, the only thing that could potentially protect them from very real threats to their safety is the rank they’re denied. It’s on me to make this right for her— for them. If keeping my source with Arobynn a secret is what I have to do to ensure that, I’ll do it. You aren’t the only one who risks blood on their hands.”

“Lorcan,” she breathed, feeling like a self-centered asshole to not see the stress weighing so heavily on him. A tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another, and she whisked them away quickly in hopes it would stop more from coming. It didn’t.

“Ennar, don’t,” he warned, but his voice held a gentleness it hadn’t before.

“No, I should have asked. I assumed the least of you, and I—“

Lysandra couldn’t find the words, but it didn’t matter because Lorcan had already stepped forward to pull her roughly to his chest. He tucked her head beneath his chin, his hand gripping his other wrist to hold her against him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, blubbering excuses for her behavior into his now soaked shirt.

“I just said not to do this,” he chided, earning a small chuckle from Lysandra.

The woman lifted her head, patting his sodden shirt with her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, fresh tears starting to form. He made no attempt to push her away, so she settled back into his chest. “For the shirt, but especially for taking all this out on you. I wish I could take it back.”

“Nah,” Lorcan argued. “No take backs. We’ll be better for it. If you ever want to know why I do anything, you can ask me anytime. I could have been more transparent. Well, for the most part anyway.”

The pair huffed a laugh together, just as the door to Aedion’s chambers opened and his voice came through the space. “Finally done for the day,” Aedion announced, foregoing any kind of greeting. His footsteps stopped short seconds later, and Lysandra tensed at her current position.

Her early rapport and familiarity with Lorcan had been a source of tension for Aedion when she first started this mission, and she prayed that he wasn’t getting the wrong idea by the current situation. To be fair, she would understand if he did, but the thought of Aedion questioning her intentions or becoming angry with her seemed unbearable in her state.

“Lys,” he murmured softly, and she heard his steps start toward her quickly. Before she could open her mouth to explain away her circumstances, Lorcan’s voice rumbled through his chest and against her cheek.

“Get in on this, Ashryver. We’re stressed.”

Aedion’s soft laugh eased some of her tension almost immediately, his presence comforting her in a totally different way than her friend’s embrace. Lorcan’s affectionate gesture eased a local, immediate hurt. Aedion’s effect on her was global; whether it be past, present, mental, or physical.

“C’mere,” he ordered softly, his arm already draped over her shoulders. His chest was nearly pressed against Lorcan’s side to reach her, and Lysandra made a mental note to revisit the image later for a laugh. This wasn’t a situation they had likely found themselves in before.

Her body carried her over to him automatically, and she readily shoved her face into the warmth of his chest. Their arms wrapped around the other instantly, Aedion tucking his cheek against her head as he whispered words of comfort to her.

“What happened, love?”

She felt his head shift to make eye contact with Lorcan, hoping to get an explanation from one or both of them. The man eased himself into one of the chairs with a groan, orienting his body so that he could still address them properly.

Lysandra drew in a deep, shaky breath and was glad that the tears had stopped for the time being.

“Well,” she began with a whoosh of air, “I just jumped down Lorcan’s throat.”

An incredulous chuckle bubbled out of Aedion as he shifted his gaze between her and the commander. “What?”

“It’s true.” Lorcan stated with a dismissive flick of the hand hanging off the back of the chair.

“One of you needs to fill me in. I think this might be my favorite thing to happen this week.”

Lysandra couldn’t help an affectionate eye roll at the prince’s enthusiasm.

“I guess I need to start at the beginning. Technically, Lorcan still doesn’t know what set me off, either,” she commented through a laugh.

Aedion released her, his shoulders relaxing at hearing her laughter. He led her over to the sitting area, offering her the remaining chair and settling onto the carpet at her feet. Warmth seeped into her legs from his back pressed against them, and Lysandra decided to busy her hands by running them through his hair as she spoke.

She told them of her debrief with Arobynn that morning and how he had reacted to her news about Aelin and Dorian. All things considered, the men were satisfied with his immediate reaction. They had each held their own concerns about how he would treat Lysandra as the bearer of said news.

Tension crept into both of their shoulders as she recounted her interactions with Tern several hours after the team meeting. Lorcan’s brow was drawn together in impatience, where Aedion had gone a eerie level of still. Lysandra ran her nails through the hair on the back of his head, but the action didn’t do much to relax him.

She continued with the story, describing how she’d vomited in the trash can and pulling chuckles from both of them with her various attempts to dispose of it without drawing attention. Looking back, she had wasted a ton of time on these attempts if Lorcan had already been informed. She supposed that was pretty on theme with the events of the day.

Finally, she recounted the cryptic conversation she shared with Arobynn at the end of the day. His insinuations that their reasons for carrying forward was complicated and couldn’t be covered during their short touch base still haunted her slightly. At her mention of it, Aedion and Lorcan both assumed far-off looks on their faces as they entertained the possibilities.

Lorcan broke the silence with a wry huff of a laugh. “If I had to guess, they want to present it before the announcement to keep their hands clean. If they waited until after, it would be an obvious power move. If they do it now, they can defend their actions by telling everyone that the timing is a coincidence.”

“Yeah,” Aedion agreed, but his voice was just as distant as his expression. His eyes were fixed on the Staghorns, his body just as still as before.

“I think you’re giving them too much credit,” Lysandra stated, her thumbs moving to apply firm pressure along the back of Aedion’s neck. “I don’t doubt that there’s something to that, but they’re backing her into a corner. They know she’ll never forego Dorian for Arobynn. They’re making her the villain so they can justify their actions later.”

“Hmph,” Lorcan uttered as he considered. “I think you’ve got something there, Ennar; probably a way to claim they tried compromising with her.”

“Yep; and that she chose love over her country.”

Silence hanged heavy in the sitting area for a couple of minutes, none of them interested in dissecting the current events much further. Despite her ministrations, Aedion’s muscles remained tense, but she figured that the man would talk to her if and when he was ready. Lorcan was the first to break the silence again, clapping his hands on top of his thighs and standing in a long stretch.

“Looks like I have an update to relay to the Cadre,” he announced. He shook his head at the title. “The court; I have an update for the court. Call me if you hear anything else, yeah?”

Lysandra assured him that she would keep him informed, but she hoped for her sanity’s sake that she wouldn’t happen upon any novel information in the near future. Aedion’s long exhale shook her from her thoughts as he turned toward her. The prince shifted to a kneeling position and reached for her waist, gently wiggling his torso between her knees in silent permission. With a soft laugh, Lysandra made room for him there so that he could wrap his arms around her waist and rest his head against her chest. She brought her arms around his shoulders to rub soft shapes along the muscles of his back.

“I’m so fucking tired of this,” he muttered against her. His voice was timid, but the anger came through all the same.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “me too.”

“Especially you,” he insisted. “I swear you’re superhuman some days.”

His grip tightened around her waist. Lysandra arched into him slightly to get as close to his warmth as possible.

“I don’t feel like it,” she admitted. “I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.”

“People have fallen apart over way less, love. You’re allowed to feel the weight of this mission.”

She patted his shoulders in acknowledgement and appreciation. The pair of them fell into comfortable silence in the quiet room until Aedion spoke up.

“Were you going to tell me you got sick today?”

The question surprised her. She was so used to her colleagues’ indifference as her norm that it still caught her off guard when others inquired about her well-being.

“I’m sure I would have. I didn’t think much of it, you know? Just nerves.”

The prince tensed once more, easing back to look into her face. “So you’re okay now? I would hope you would tell me if you need a break or if something else was going on. We’re putting a ton of pressure on you, Lys.”

“I know,” she whispered, looking between their chests to avoid his too perceptive gaze. “I feel better, really. It was just too many things back to back earlier, I think. What else would be going on?”

It was Aedion’s turn to look sheepish, the tips of his ears blushing a bright pink. “I mean, I don’t know. I think I’m just in my head after everything that happened in Adarlan, and now you’re not well. You can ignore me,” he rambled.

Lysandra felt her eyebrows draw together in confusion as she processed his words.

_...after what happened in Adarlan..._

_You’re not well._

“Aedion,” she said soothingly, “did you think... that I was pregnant?”

The turquoise eyes she loved so much snapped up to hers, a torrent of emotions swirling in them. “I don’t know,” he rushed out. “I didn’t want to ignore the possibility and seem insensitive.”

Lysandra’s heart swelled at his stammering. She cupped his face in both of her hands, pressing her thumbs to his full mouth to try and stop the flow of assumptions from pouring out of him. He pressed his lips together, but his eyes scanned her face erratically in question.

“I’m on birth control, Aed. I had a new IUD placed like 6 months before this mission started. We’re good on the pregnancy front.”

The man’s shoulders relaxed just slightly, but he looked far from comfortable.

“I think maybe there’s a conversation to be had around when those symptoms would present themselves, too. We started having sex less than a week ago.” She tried, but ultimately failed to hide her smile.

Aedion’s brows came together in good-natured annoyance. “Look, don’t make fun of me. I was worried about you.” He grabbed one of her hands in his own and pressed her knuckles to his lips. Warmth flowed through Lysandra’s blood stream at feeling his lips against her skin, her affection for her partner nearly boiling over. She silently chided herself for intensity of her feelings and for how she’d allowed herself to become so entwined in his life. The thought that she would only hurt him at one point or another haunted her alongside her concerns for Evangeline.

“Reason seems to leave me when it comes to you,” he admitted quietly. “The only time that I have any peace at all is when you’re with me. Not that I don’t trust your judgment or Lorcan’s ability to keep you safe, but I know I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“You can’t take responsibility for me. You have more on your plate than you realize, and I need you to keep yourself safe, too.”

Aedion’s eyes flashed with something like hurt or frustration. “Don’t ask me not to care about your safety, Lysandra. You’ll only set me up to fail.”

“I would never ask you not to care. Never,” she insisted, bringing both of her hands around the back of his neck. “I’m just asking that you don’t lose focus on keeping yourself safe by trying to make my general safety your responsibility. It’s not all on you.”

The prince eased his eyes shut for several seconds as he took a steadying breath. When they opened to land on her own again, his gaze was softer.

“I don’t know how to convince myself of that.” His eyes bore into her own, and even though she wasn’t sure why, she felt her heart start beating erratically. “Lysandra,” he whispered, “you creeped up on me, and I didn’t stand a chance.”

The look on his face seemed to speak volumes; seemed to communicate what he couldn’t quite bring himself to say. The woman didn’t dare hope to hear him utter the words, but the longing remained. She had danced around a label for how she felt about Aedion for weeks, and this conversation was the proverbial nail in the coffin.

“I didn’t either.”

—

“Resplendent” was the word Dorian Havilliard used to describe Lysandra when they reunited at the State Banquet. The king of Adarlan had arrived earlier that day, escorted by a procession including the Bane and a number of his own armed Guards. With a number of eyes on the lot of them, the casual nature of their rapport was replaced with uncomfortable formalities yet again. Despite the pomp and circumstance of his arrival, the gleam in the king’s eye was completely and totally of the Dorian beneath it all.

Lysandra thanked the king for being so gracious with his complements and promised to share a dance with him later in the evening. She stood in the Royal Ballroom, taking in the gathering of guests to celebrate the king’s arrival. As it was custom, the Banquet had been quickly planned throughout the week; all hands within the castle walls bustling about to ensure things were up to standard. The Ballroom was transformed, nearly alive with the energy of 100-plus people who made up the Royal guest list.

As suspected, Aelin had graciously and diplomatically refused the arranged marriage to Arobynn, explaining to the lords that she meant to marry someone of her own choosing. No one had anticipated that they would take the news so gracefully when she delivered her decision. Lysandra hadn’t voiced it at the time, but their gracious acceptance sent a shiver through her bones. The fact had her dreading news of their coming plans.

Pulling her from her thoughts, she heard Aedion’s smooth voice next to her, their shoulders just close enough to brush. He reached to hand her a flute of champagne, and she smiled in thanks.

“I have to say,” he purred, his eyes scanning sidelong over her form then returning to the crowd, “his Majesty was right; although, I think there’s a better word for just how beautiful you are. I haven’t found it quite yet.”

The prince continued to scan the crowd, politely dipping his head and smiling at those who greeted him. Lysandra felt her cheeks burn at his blatant appreciation and dropped her chin in an effort to conceal the reaction. Her dark hair fell over her face on one side like a curtain, the other side pinned tightly behind her ear to keep it over her shoulder.

Aedion’s large hand rested chastely above the small of her back, having noticed her reaction to his praise.

“What is it?”

She looked into his face, at the earnest and concerned expression, and she almost word vomited those three little words that she was so dedicated to keeping hidden. Admitting them would only further complicate their dynamic, and she needed the normalcy of their interactions to keep her grounded in reality some days.

“Nothing,” she assured him, softening her face into a smile to make sure he believed her. “I don’t know how you manage to say things that catch me so off guard all the time, especially in public.”

Aedion oriented toward her a little more, an asymmetrical smile stretching across one side of his handsome face as if what she said was ridiculous. “I’m only telling you the truth. What I say should hardly surprise you.”

Lysandra laughed quietly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she held Aedion’s stare. She watched as his eyes darkened and tracked the motion of her lips, and she promptly released it before they got themselves in trouble at a royal event.

She dropped her gaze, busying her free hand by smoothing the front of her red, satin gown. As if timed perfectly to allow the two of them time to recover, there was clinking of silverware across the room to gather the room’s attention. Everyone looked toward the sound, finding Dorian standing tightly to Aelin’s side. Rowan’s large frame was poised several feet behind them, assuming his role as her Highness’ personal Guard.

Lysandra’s heart clenched for the man whose own heart was likely tortured by his pretending. It was a sentiment she felt she could identify with, but she knew it was harder for Rowan somehow. Not only was he pretending to have no romantic attachment to the princess, he was also tasked with keeping his emotions even while having a front row seat to Aelin’s engagement to another man.

Aelin delivered an eloquent and charming speech welcoming his Majesty to Terrasen and thanking him for making the time to visit. Dorian looked down at her with such pure adoration that it left Lysandra impressed with his acting skills. She couldn’t help but hold her breath when Aelin finished, and it was Dorian’s turn to speak.

“I must thank all of you for such a warm reception to Terrasen. I hope to visit much more often,” he paused to look down at Aelin, “considering the woman of my greatest affection calls this place home.”

The princess beamed at him in her own award-worthy performance, dipping her head in a show of bashfulness. Dorian carried on with his speech.

“That being said, Princess Aelin and I have a very exciting announcement to make. Last week, when she visited my own home in Rifthold, I asked this strong, beautiful woman to be my wife.” His face softened as he looked at her, seemingly unaware of the buzz that had overtaken the room. “I’ve no idea what I’ve done in my life to deserve her acceptance, but I’m grateful nonetheless.”

Said princess chuckled softly and placed her hand on Dorian’s forearm. He offered her a dazzling smile, very much the man who had just won the lottery, as he lifted his champagne flute to toast. The small crowd repeated his blessing, raising their own glasses in celebration. There was a round of applause, and Lysandra took the opportunity to scan the room to get a mental roster of the guests.

Her eyes landed on Arobynn, having made the short list of guests per the lords’ request, she was certain. The corner or his mouth curled in a knowing smile, and Lysandra’s stomach turned leaden. As if sensing Arobynn’s attention, Aedion wrapped his arm across her back and rested his hand just above her waist in comfort.

She looked up at him and smiled. Her partner readily returned it, tightening his hold on her for a couple of seconds in the closest approximation of a hug he would dare at such an event. Lysandra was content to remain in his grip all evening, happy to blend into the wall, but a gruff voice interrupted her wishes.

“This must be her,” the man announced, “the woman who has Aedion Ashryver wanting to bring his bachelor days to a close.” Aedion tensed next to her, but his face remained open and polite.

“I should have known you wouldn’t simply introduce yourself in the typical fashion,” he replied with an eye roll. There was no malice in his tone or the gesture, only a true sense of familiarity. Lysandra wondered how she had yet to meet the man if that were the case, though.

“Forgive me,” he apologized, bending at the waist to bow subtly toward her. “My name is Kyllian, second in command of the Bane and perpetual pain in Aedion’s ass.” Kyllian offered his hand in a gentle shake.

Lysandra reached forward automatically and gently gripped his hand. She looked to Aedion to introduce her, unsure of how much the Bane knew of her identity. It irritated her that it never occurred to her to ask what they knew, especially after they assisted in security while the majority of Aelin’s court traveled to Adarlan.

“Kyllian, this is Olivia.”

The man smiled at her knowingly, so Lysandra assumed he did indeed know her true identity but wouldn’t discuss in public.

“Nice to meet you, Kyllian. Glad I’m not the only pain in Aedion’s life,” she joked.

She was doing her best to be the charming and agreeable girlfriend, but to a certain extent, her brain had emptied out at the mention of the man’s name. The information Lorcan had shared with her ricocheted through her brain, but she couldn’t afford to show her surprise. Aedion still didn’t know that she knew of his relationship with Kyllian. Maybe that wasn’t quite right; maybe Lorcan told him that he’d informed her of their history. All she knew was that she hadn’t mentioned that she knew, and she didn’t want to make this anymore awkward than it needed to be.

Kyllian threw his head back as he laughed and raised a hand to clap Aedion on the shoulder. Lysandra bristled slightly, the feeling deep in her chest something inky and foreign. She didn’t care for it.

“I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself through my misfortune, Kyl.” Aedion commented with a laugh, his eyes bright.

Lysandra didn’t care for that either.

She tucked herself a little tighter to Aedion’s side, silently cursing herself for her territorial display. The move was subtle enough and probably hadn’t registered to either of the men, but such actions were usually unlike her. Love did weird things to people, she thought.

“Not my fault you have a type, Aed.” She felt Aedion’s entire body go rigid at the words. “ Well, hey, Elgan is trying to get my attention. I’ll see you later, yeah?” His attention turned quickly to Lysandra. “It was really nice meeting you, Olivia. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Just like that, he was gone.

Aedion’s eyes slid closed in a prolonged blink until he opened them to look toward her. His face was apologetic with a hint of irritation.

“Sorry about him. He’s... insufferable.”

“He’s your ex,” she blurted, unsure of why her mouth was hellbent on sabotaging her.

Aedion’s lips drew together in a grim line as he nodded. “He is. Aelin?”

“No. Lorcan.”

His eyes grew large at that, obviously surprised at that development. “Since when is Salvaterre a gossip?” he joked, but the humor didn’t quite make it into his words.

“He’s not. It came up in conversation, and he thought you would have told me by then. I didn’t ask you about it because I figured you would tell me eventually.”

“I should have already told you. How much do you know?”

“Enough,” she replied dryly, pulling away from him slightly to get some cool air in light of the heavier conversation. If how his face crumpled was any indication, Aedion interpreted the distance as both physical and metaphorical.

“Lys, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I just— I don’t like the guy I was after things went south. I’ve spent so many years compartmentalizing my personal and professional history with Kyllian that it genuinely didn’t occur to me.”

“Hey,” she murmured, reaching out to squeeze his hand closest to her. “Don’t apologize, okay? I’m not irritated with you. I’m just feeling a little protective of you, that’s all. I know the end was hard.”

The prince’s shoulders visibly relaxed at her reassurance, and she gripped his hand tighter. “As long as Kyllian knows his boundaries, I’ll deal. It may take me a little bit to get used to it, but I’ll get there.”

Aedion smiled, a beautiful yet satisfied thing. “His boundaries? Love, are you jealous?” he teased.

“I’m not _jealous_ ,” Lysandra insisted. “It’s a lot to navigate when I know you two ended things due to circumstances rather than actually wanting to break up.”

“I get it; I really do. We’ll talk more about it later so you can ask as many questions as you want, yeah?”

“I’d like that.” She turned her attention back toward the room as she took a sip of her champagne, momentarily pacified with the promise of learning more about Kyllian.

“Good,” Aedion stated, daring to run his nose along her temple as he spoke. “You’re really cute when you’re not jealous.”

Lysandra leveled him with a glare, but despite the earlier heaviness, the sound of his deep laugh erased any remaining ills.

“I’ll give you cute,” she muttered bitterly over the rim of her glass, and the man’s eyes sparkled at her challenge.

“Looking forward to it,” he teased suggestively.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, but she wouldn’t deny the tension in her stomach at the promise in his voice. His pupils were blown wide, leading her to feel a little victorious at how the conversation affected him.

“Too bad we can’t slip away too long without being noticed. Otherwise, I would suggest a trip to your rooms.” She eyes him appreciatively before turning her attention back on the room. Suddenly, she felt a firm tug of her arm and realized Aedion was leading her to one of the exits of the Royal Ballroom.

“Aedion,” she laughed, “what are you doing? People will talk if we’re gone that long.”

They made it to the small receiving area outside the ballroom before Aedion turned around with heat in his eyes, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist. His playful smile remained in place.

“The Small Study is down the hall and unoccupied. We have nothing but time.”

—

It appeared that Aelin received similar dance training as her cousin at some point in life. The two of them spun around the dance floor flawlessly as if it didn’t take a single conscious thought to do so. Lysandra grinned as she took them in, especially the broad smiles the two of them wore. The cousins favored each other at any given time, but their likeness in their joy was uncanny.

“I wondered if I would have a chance to speak with you,” Arobynn said, approaching her from the side. The two of them kept their attentions trained on the prince and princess of Terrasen, as well as the throng of guests who filled the dance floor around them.

“I don’t know that it’s wise to speak here.”

“Not in detail; of course not. I only wanted to tell you that decisions have been made regarding how to proceed.”

“I’ll find you tomorrow morning,” Lysandra replied tensely.

“My office, first thing. In the meantime, I’ll ask that you do some self-reflection.”

Her head snapped in his direction, baffled and irritated by the insinuation. Her voice felt choked without muttering a single word, so she let her inquisitive expression speak for itself.

“You spoke of being committed to completing this mission by any means necessary all those months ago. I need to know that it remains true.” Arobynn’s eyes flitted to Lysandra‘s, then quickly back to the pair of golden-haired cousins who continued their path across the dance floor.

His swift shift in attention made her heart beat against her chest with impressive vigor, and she wondered if she might have to physically hold it in with her palm against her chest.

“Of course,” she managed. “You shouldn’t need to ask.”

“Alright. Good.” His eyes lingered on Aelin and Aedion for another brief moment before breaking away. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”


	12. Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s) for suggestive language, strong language, mentions of violence.

——————————————————————————

_“You spoke of being committed to completing this mission by any means necessary all those months ago. I need to know that it remains true.” Arobynn’s eyes flitted to Lysandra‘s, then quickly back to the pair of golden-haired cousins who continued their path across the dance floor._

_His swift shift in attention made her heart beat against her chest with impressive vigor, and she wondered if she might have to physically hold it in with her palm against her chest._

_“Of course,” she managed. “You shouldn’t need to ask.”_

_“Alright. Good.” His eyes lingered on Aelin and Aedion for another brief moment before breaking away. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”_

—

“Alright. I know where to find you.” Lysandra’s voice was clipped and impatient. Arobynn’s questions had her mind reeling, and the conversation had lasted too long already.

Arobynn opened his mouth to say something else, but he was interrupted by a pair of sapphire eyes coming into Lysandra’s field of vision. She wondered if she would ever be so relieved to see the king of Adarlan again.

“Pardon the interruption, sir,” he stated smoothly, dipping his head to Arobynn. The man bowed immediately, uttering a quick, yet reverent hello to his Majesty. Dorian’s attention shifted quickly to Lysandra. “Miss Olivia promised a dance earlier in the evening. I’ve come to take her up on that offer,” he stated, a mischevious glint in his eye. “That is, if she’ll have me, of course.”

Have him? The man was lucky that Lysandra didn’t take his face between her hands and kiss him right on the mouth for the rescue.

“Well, I am a woman of my word,” she drawled, offering a pointed look to Arobynn and hoping he picked up on her meaning.

Dorian cupped her hand gently, her long fingers draped over the side of his palm as he guided her to the dance floor. He gave her a quick spin before settling into the proper position and leading her through their dance. A smile pulled at the corners of Lysandra’s lips; partly out of relief from being freed of Arobynn’s company and partly because of how effortless she found Dorian’s company.

“You’re very brave,” she teased, laughing softly at his quizzical expression. “His Majesty dallying with the common folk? Whatever will the people of Terrasen think?”

He scoffed at that, holding loaded eye contact with her in the place of the eye roll that would likely follow such a statement.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Olivia,” he stated casually. The raven-haired king leaned close to her ear. “I prefer the ‘common folk’ over nobles any day.”

Lysandra gasped, feigning shock at such a bold declaration. “Does her highness, Princess Aelin know this?”

Dorian chuckled at her performance. “Absolutely not.” He spun Lysandra so that her back was to his chest, leaving an acceptable distance between their bodies, as he led them through another couple of steps. “I’m hoping to keep it that way,” he added, spinning her back around to resume their previous position.

A laugh, true and refreshing, bubbled out of Lysandra as Dorian led her. She had come quite a long way from that first formal dance with Aedion those months ago; proven by the fact that she had yet to step on or stumble over the king’s feet. She dared a glance out to the crowd and noticed numerous sets of eyes on them, but after their brief exchange, she found that she didn’t care.

“So, have you put any thought into my proposition?”

She glanced up into his face, momentarily confused by the question. A quick scan of her brain reminded her of the reference; his proposal that she join his court as a political strategist in Adarlan.

“I have to admit, your Majesty, I didn’t think that was a genuine offer.”

“Why else would I have mentioned it?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted,”maybe to antagonize your fiancée.”

Dorian threw his head back as he laughed. “That’s fair; but not the case. I do hope you’ll consider it.”

Lysandra’s eyes scanned his face for any evidence that he was teasing her, but she found nothing. The man barely knew her; had only spent a couple of days with her, so it seemed farfetched that he would offer such a position. When she showed no indication of a response, Dorian continued.

“I could keep you safe; you and your family,” he explained, his blue eyes staring intently into her face to convey his meaning. “No one would dare move on you if you held a seat in Adarlan. Just something to consider.”

It was beyond tempting to entertain it as a true option, but she didn’t dare hope for such a perfect end to her mission. To be able to end it, resign from Arobynn’s employment, and gain security of that magnitude seemed far too good to be true.

“I don’t know,” she lamented. “The logistics of that decision seem a little out of reach in this season of life.”

Having this conversation in such generic terms was a challenge in and of itself. Dorian remained patient with her, but he was undeterred.

“I acknowledge it could be complicated. But, if I may point out, you are far more than what they allow you to be. Surely, you know that.”

She did. She’d spoken to that very point for years, so she didn’t dare pretend he was incorrect. Arobynn and her colleagues had always tried to keep her in a certain box, which was why it seemed way too good to be true to be offered an out.

“I’m honored, truly,” she managed, squeezing his shoulder lightly in hopes of conveying her appreciation. “I promise to think on it.”

The king’s smile was breathtaking. “Good,” he breathed. “You would be compensated well, obviously, and I would arrange for you to have your own quarters in Adarlan. You’re welcome to visitors at anytime.” He offered a wink to that point. “And you would be free to travel as you wish. I know you have some stock in Terrasen at the moment.”

Lysandra shook her head in disbelief, glancing toward their feet as she fought the slight sting in her eyes at such a generous offer. Her mission had caused her more stress in mere months than she had experienced during the rest of her life combined, but she had come to know some of the world’s kindest people in the process. It was such a stark contrast to what she perceived the world to be due to her previous circumstances, and the reminders still gave her whiplash at times.

The song ended before she could respond, but Dorian didn’t pressure her for an answer. He lowered her hands gently to her sides as he bowed in thanks, and just like that, he was gone. Lysandra resumed her place on the outskirts of the room, eyes scanning the space for the dazzling blue eyes she longed to see. When she found them, she offered Aedion a soft smile, and he promptly finished his conversation to join her. The prince greeted her with a steady hand on her back and a devastating smile, and an intense sensation swelled within her chest. She wasn’t entirely sure what to call it, but it was starting to feel a lot like home.

—

There was a time where Lysandra may have said that Aedion Ashryver couldn’t possibly be more attractive; that surely, he had peaked. Time and time again he’d proven her wrong in various ways, and the way he looked in that moment was another example. The prince was on his back against the pillows, naked save for his dog tags and the sheet draped across his middle. His blond waves fanned around his head, falling slightly across his brow as he turned his head to look at her.

He took her hand in his, lacing and unlacing their fingers as he toyed with it casually. Lysandra’s head rested on his chest as she peered into his face, and the way he looked at her made her feel a little drunk with emotion. The man’s other hand was drawing soft lines up and down the column of her spine, covering her entire body in goose flesh.

“Tonight was fun,” he murmured before placing a lingering kiss against her forehead. “Although, I can’t believe you seduced me into the Study. Could have been quite the scandal.”

Lysandra felt, rather than saw, the smile stretch across his face. She managed a slight lift of her chin to offer a glare at his teasing, but the prince only chuckled and claimed her lips once more.

“You know,” she started between kisses. “You logic would be far more sound if I had even known the Small Study existed in that area of the palace. I’m not taking the blame for your deviousness.” Lysandra intensified the kiss as she rolled to straddle his hips. “I will take blame for seducing you once we made back here, though.”

Aedion pinched her sides playfully as he rolled them, leaning over her on his elbow. “I’ll accept that compromise.” His eyes scanned her face, but she couldn’t quite place for what he was searching. He kissed her reverently before pulling back with a more serious expression.

“How are you? You had a lot to work through tonight between Kyllian, Arobynn, and Dorian’s offer.”

“Okay,” she assured him, but she wasn’t quite sure how much she truly meant it. She was exhausted to her bones. “Dorian’s offer is so generous, but I hadn’t even begun thinking about the actual logistics. I decided that’s something to think through after a strong night’s sleep and a coffee,” she added light-heartedly.

Aedion chuckled, his attention never wavering as he waited for her to continue.

“Kyllian... he’s someone I’ve been processing a bit already. Knowing what I knew and that you see him regularly wasn’t my favorite thing in the world, but I figured if it was hard on anyone, it would be you.”

Aedion thought on that for a minute, looking at the sheet near her head while he gathered his words. “Once upon a time, it was hard. Really hard. Our assignments didn’t stop after we decided to split, so the close quarters made me want to crawl out of my own skin. I was fucking miserable to be around.” He huffed a laugh through his nose as he regained eye contact with her. “It’s been some time now that I’ve made my peace with it. I want him to be happy.”

“That’s big of you. I have to say I was surprised he mentioned you having a type in front of me. You know, considering the reason you split is because he’s not ready to be out publicly.” Lysandra bit her lip, afraid that maybe she said too much or pushed too far. That was information he hadn’t shared with her personally, and she feared he would bristle at the mention.

The prince blew out a breath through pursed lips. “I’m not,” he said, confusing Lysandra with the implication. He didn’t leave her in the dark for long. “Kyllian recently got engaged. To a man.”

“Aedion,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Really, I’m fine. When I heard the news, my pride wanted to hurt, but that journey is so _personal_. It didn’t take me long to talk myself out of that.” He took a steadying breath. “We haven’t talked about it, but I don’t know that he ever would have been ready with me. A life with the prince of Terrasen isn’t as desirable as people like to think; with all the publicity and social posturing.”

Lysandra reached toward his face, brushing his hair behind his ear as she scanned his expression. He gave nothing away. She sat up slightly to press a lingering kiss to his mouth, one he returned in kind. Aedion chased her lips as she lay back down, causing her to giggle softly as she pressed her index and middle fingers to his mouth to interrupt his pursuit.

“I don’t know,” she murmured around her smile. “I find it pretty easy to like you. I think I’d find myself pretty lucky to have you like me long-term.”

Aedion beamed at her, undeterred by her fingers in completing his pursuit of her mouth. He kissed her with intention until he pulled away and left her breathless. “Oh, I like you,” he promised. “I’d like you forever if you’d let me.”

—

The pair woke before the sun the next morning, much to their chagrin, but there was a silent agreement of nerves as the culprit. Aedion ordered a large carafe of coffee from the kitchens, and the two of them wrapped themselves in a blanket on the chaise as they woke up for the day. With the coffee came a copy of the local news, complete with a a headline on Page 1 regarding the princess’ engagement.

“News travels fast,” Lysandra rasped, her voice rough with disuse.

“You have no idea. I’m sure there’s all kinds of information in here.”

Lysandra watched as Aedion’s tired, turquoise eyes scanned the page. She was still a little too tired to participate wholly in the news, so she opted to lie back against his chest and rest her eyes. After some minutes, she felt the prince’s entire body tense beneath her, rousing her from her rest.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he sighed, folding the paper up and flopping it unceremoniously to the small table. “Just bullshit speculation that we’re all used to at this point.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” she argued, sitting up slightly to turn and face him. Aedion cupped her jaw with his hand and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.

“Apparently there are some who are concerned about the implications of Aelin’s engagement to a king of a neighboring, powerful nation. The word ‘empire’ was thrown around quite a bit.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “If only they knew it was self-preservation, and not world domination, that motivated her.”

Aedion reached over to bring his coffee to his lips, taking a small sip as he nodded to her point.

“Well, very rarely does the Royal family get a say in all these rumors. It’s something we’ve learned to brush off. I find it much easier to do for myself than I do Aelin, though. She’s been through enough.”

“Right. The last thing she needs is another round of rumors to muck everything up even more. Imagine having to vehemently defend your engagement that’s not even real in the first place,” she mused.

Aedion placed his mug back on the table and gripped her upper arm gently to pull her into him. He rested his chin atop her hair as he spoke.

“It’s not for you to worry about, babe. She’ll be okay; she always is. You just focus on you and your meeting with Arobynn this morning.”

“Do I have to?” Lysandra lamented, earning a warm laugh and a tight squeeze from Aedion.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Fine,” she conceded, sitting up to initiate getting ready for the day. “But if it doesn’t go well, I’m blaming you.”

Turquoise and gold eyes shined up at her as he laughed. The sight was almost enough to make her call in sick and curl up on the chaise once again.

—

Lysandra arrived at the office earlier than usual. She appreciated the quiet of the Keep at such an early hour, but it was short-lived that day. Tern pulled in less than 30 minutes later, ruining Lysandra’s placid mood.

The man was still shameless in his close monitoring of her movements, but she was struggling, as of late, to care. She felt that his paranoia was rooted in feeling left out with Arobynn, if nothing else, considering he was used to being his right-hand man. All of their boss’ private meetings with her were getting under Tern’s skin, but as time passed, Lysandra felt it was more between the two of them than between Tern and herself.

The truth, if she was honest with herself, was that she didn’t have the mental capacity to track yet another person. She had made her peace with that.

What concerned her most was that Arobynn wasn’t present early that morning, despite their plans to meet first thing. Lysandra felt the usual dread and nerves associated with meeting with her boss, but the delay exacerbated them tenfold. After almost an hour, she decided to do some digging.

“Annie,” she called, walking toward the front of their office, “have you heard from Mr. Hamel this morning?”

Annie’s eyes sparkled up at her from her desk, as friendly as ever. “Morning, Lysandra. No, I’m sorry. I wondered if any of you had heard. It’s unlike him to be late.”

She considered that for a second before she responded. “No, nothing. If I hear from him, I’ll let you know. Would you do the same?”

“Of course! Oh, hey... I never got to thank you for the coffee you sent me a couple of weeks ago. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Are you kidding? I think you’re the sole reason this office doesn’t catch fire most days. You deserve to hear it more than you do.”

A shy smile stretched across the assistant’s lips as she dipped her head to hide her blush. “Thanks. You should hear it more than you do, too.”

Lysandra patted her desk with a hand as she walked away, touched by the sincerity in Annie’s voice. “I guess we’ll just have to be sure and tell each other then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Sounds like a plan.”

—

Arobynn Hamel didn’t show his face at the Keep until an hour or so before lunch, not bothering to say a word to Lysandra about missing their scheduled meeting. She wasn’t going pursue him on the matter, considering she almost always left their meetings overwhelmed. Instead, she worked through several of her cases that had been slightly neglected in favor of the Galathynius case, trying to be a fly on the wall until he deigned to speak to her.

Toward the end of the day, she had all but given up on the thought of them meeting. It was approaching the end of office hours, and since she arrived so early, she started to pack up her things to leave early. If he got pissed, she was happy to tell him there had been a spot in her schedule, with his name on it, that he failed to attend.

Just as she wrapped up her internal pep talk, her office phone rang. Annie’s extension flashed across the small digital screen, and she picked up with a happy greeting.

“Hey Lys,” Annie said. “Got a second?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Um, Arobynn just called my extension and asked me to check to see if you were still here. He seems really out of sorts, so I told him I would look around, but I wasn’t sure you would be available. Do you want me to tell him you’re already gone?”

“Why wouldn’t he just call me?” She asked rhetorically. “I’m sorry you got pulled in to take my inventory, Annie. When you say out of sorts, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know, exactly. A little erratic; very distracted. He didn’t mention anything out of the norm, otherwise I would give you a heads up.”

Lysandra loosed a loaded breath. “Better to just get it over with, I guess. Go ahead and call him back and tell him I’ll be there in 5 minutes. I’ll head to the restroom and pop into his office.”

“Okay.” The assistant sounded unconvinced, a little worried. “Do you want me to stay until you all are done if it runs over?”

“Oh. No, that’s not necessary, Annie. Thank you.”

She hanged up her phone gently as she pushed herself to her feet. Walking as quietly as possible to the restroom to avoid catching anyone’s attention, she locked herself inside and took several steadying breaths. An Ashryver pep talk was more than welcome, but time was limited already.

Since she was already inside the bathroom, she used the toilet and washed her hands. While over the sink she splashed cool water to her wrists, the inside of her elbows, and patted some into the skin of her neck. It helped to make her feel refreshed, but it was pretty worthless in steadying her nerves.

She dried off quickly and walked the rest of the way to Arobynn’s large office. She knocked as she walked inside, not pausing long enough to let her nerves get the better of her. Arobynn looked up as she approached, his eyes widening and hands gesturing for her to shut the door.

“Arobynn, what’s going on?”

“Shh— keep your voice down. The others are still around.”

“Okay,” she conceded, lowering her voice a fraction.

Arobynn shook his head and straightened his jacket, seemingly slipping back into his most natural persona. It was an odd thing to watch. Lysandra had never seen him anything but put together before.

“I apologize for missing our morning meeting. There was an urgent matter the lords wished to discuss, and it was rather non-negotiable. I meant to contact you, but it slipped my mind.”

“I understand,” she lied. His words did very little to calm her frustration at being left to wonder all day. “When we spoke last night, you said you had news. Did something change?”

“When we spoke last night, the primary angle was to target the media. The lords had strategically disseminated some information regarding the potential downfall of Aelin’s marriage to King Havilliard. The goal was to incite civil unrest, in which case the lords would act as mediators in addressing their concerns. They aimed to gather popular support of their shared governance that way.”

That certainly explained the information she and Aedion had discussed. She should have known they were behind it.

“I see. And what if Aelin didn’t back down? Did they really plan to go to civil war with Adarlan as an ally to Aelin’s side? That was never going to work out for them.”

“Not for them alone, no. However, in our discussions, they let me know they managed to secure an alliance with Queen Blackbeak should war become a real possibility. As a queen with experience, specifically in matters of civil war, she and her legions are invaluable resources.”

Lysandra felt a strange sense of pride at how effortlessly Manon ensnared the lords. She kept that pride strictly internal though, lest Arobynn decide he wanted to question her about her reaction. Before she could think of anything to say, Arobynn began talking once more.

“That being said, there wasn’t nearly the societal reaction to the news that the lords anticipated. Apparently, the people of Terrasen were quite charmed with Aelin and King Havilliard’s announcement, and very few of them see any true threat in their wedding.”

“Couldn’t the lords cultivate that behind the scenes? The same way they planted the seed in the first place?”

“In theory, yes. But that would take time; too much time. Now that Aelin is engaged, they’re feeling pressured to gain some favor in their direction. For all everyone knows, the two of them could plan a wedding within a fortnight, and everything we’ve planned up to this point would be moot. We don’t have time to create that level on unrest.”

“That’s why you were late. You all went back to the drawing board.”

Arobynn only nodded, and Lysandra’s heart began to race. The air in the room was suddenly more ominous, more spine-chilling.

“I’ve been back and forth with them all morning and all day. It took us quite some time to arrive at anything final with this being such a delicate situation.” Her boss paused to gather his thoughts, lacing his fingers across his chest as he sat back. Lysandra resisted the urge to scream at him to hurry up. “The lords are going to call another meeting with her to revisit the arranged marriage. Although there’s less unrest than they expected, they plan to do a bit of posturing with the help of the current media reporting. They’re going to re-present their option to marry me and allow shared governance of Terrasen, and if she refuses, they will tell her it would be an act of civil war considering the opinion of the people.”

“How do they plan to back all this up after the fact? Surely they’ll expect her to do some homework of her own. The woman would never lay down so easily.”

Arobynn let out a long-suffering sigh, and the implication had Lysandra’s skin erupting in goose flesh.

“I don’t know that they’ll give her that much time, Lysandra. They’ll pressure her for a decision within the meeting, otherwise, they’ll declare war. At that point, her life is very much in danger.”

“You agreed to all this? Arobynn, we’re in way too deep. This is treason.”

The man had the nerve to pinch the bridge of his nose as if she was the one who was out of her fucking mind. “I know that, pet, but we’re already implicated. If we back out now, they turn on us, and we’re surely all fucked. We have no choice.”

 _Yes we do_ , she wanted to scream. _Just let me get everyone in a room, for fuck’s sake._ She said none of that; only continued to gawk at Arobynn as if he’d sprouted another head right there before her.

“As you can imagine, it’s not even that straight-forward. Should we go to civil war, and Aelin’s life is taken...” Arobynn shuddered at the thought; the only sign of his existing humanity. “There are complications without an heir.”

Lysandra was transported to a past court meeting, after their meal at The Ferian, to a sound byte they’d listened to as a group with Arobynn’s voice saying:

> “ _Should she refuse, and we explore the alternative plan, he is still a very real barrier in the absence of any heir."_

And Lord Darrow’s reply.

> _"That's a bridge we shall cross when we arrive. I believe, between you and me, that's easily resolved.”_

She blinked a couple of times as she arranged her thoughts. At the time the court thought he meant Rowan as her potential King Consort, since he wouldn’t be likely to take her death laying down. She assumed this was the complication Arobynn now referred to, but she had a feeling Dorian wouldn’t be considered “easy to resolve” with regard to his standing. To prevent showing how much she knew, Lysandra instead pulled on her character as the naive agent.

“It seems as though things would be easiest without an heir. But even so, she could always choose to abdicate. That would leave things unchanged.”

Arobynn huffed a wry laugh, and Lysandra knew she wouldn’t like his reply. She rarely did. “You would think so, especially should something happen before she and the king are wed.”

“I do think so. Even if they were already wed, Dorian wouldn’t have claim to her throne without siring her heir.”

A deep, harrowing feeling enveloped Lysandra as a realization came into her mind. She shoved it down, refusing to believe it was anything more than her anxiety rearing its ugly head.

“You’re correct. Right now, the arrangement only works because Aelin is the direct heir, and the lords have all agreed that she’s unfit for the throne. Best case scenario, she agrees to their terms, and she marries me. The other alternatives are that she abdicates the throne to marry Dorian or that her life is threatened by civil war. With the former, the lords will remain uneasy because of her rank in Adarlan. They’ll only fear that she tries to reclaim Terrasen through his means.”

“So, essentially, the only way they’re truly satisfied is if she marries you? And if she doesn’t, they kill her?”

“You have a way of putting things quite plainly, don’t you?” Arobynn sneered.

“It’s about time someone does! You still haven’t walked me around this whole concept of the complications. You keep saying she can’t simply die, so what is it? What else do we have to manipulate and rip apart to make this happen for them; for you?!”

Arobynn’s face looked haunted as he looked into her eyes, and that feeling of dread from before returned. This time, it was accompanied by nausea and a slight tremble that she fought, unsuccessfully, to contain. A look like that on her boss’ face never let to anything positive.

“That’s what I’ve spent hours trying to work around today. The implications change the nature of our involvement, and I hoped to shield you from it if at all possible. At his point, I don’t see a way out, Lysandra.

“The alternative, should Aelin abdicate her throne, or die as a result of war, is that Aedion Ashryver becomes the heir to the throne. He’s a man several years her senior with multiple years of war experience and has successfully led special forces for the kingdom on numerous missions. He’s decorated, loved by the people of Terrasen, and a well-rounded diplomat. This same arrangement will not fly with him as King.”

“What are you saying?” Her voice was timid and breathy even to her own ears.

Again, echoing through her mind as she awaited his answer— “ _I believe, between you and me, that's easily resolved.”_

“We have to eliminate Aedion Ashryver.”

Lysandra’s brain went entirely quiet, her bones seeming to turn into gelatin as his words sank in.

“Arobynn,” she whispered, barely aware of her own voice. “So we’re assassins, now? This cant be what we signed up for, right?”

“Lysandra,” he snapped, losing his patience. “You’re the one who wanted better work; to be involved in the larger missions. Do you think he’s the first target we’ve acquired? I can assure you he’s not; you’ve only been sheltered from the uglier aspects of missions like this. Well, here it is, pet. You wanted a seat at the table; take it.”

How she managed to keep the contents of her stomach contained was a wonder to her as much as anyone else. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, what he was asking of her, but she knew she could only do one thing to try to keep Aedion safe.

“I’ll take it,” she responded, her voice resolute. “Consider it done.”

—

The rest of their conversation was all a blur; merely a collection of vague snapshots and muffled words. Lysandra forced herself to walk slowly to her car rather than sprinting full-out as she desired. Annie was already gone, and she was grateful for that. The assistant would have picked up on her mood immediately.

The drive and all the security checkpoints to get into the palace seemed to drag as if passing twice as slowly as usual. She forced herself to remain patient with other drivers and the palace Guards, but her thread of patience was fraying quickly. Once parked, she walked purposely into the estate and directly toward Aedion’s quarters. She hoped her leaving late would mean he beat her there. Now that she thought of it, she hoped they had agreed to meet there in the first place.

After an eternity, she was throwing his door open. She found Aedion sitting at his desk, reviewing some type of report, and tears immediately ran down her cheeks. She never had a chance to stop them.

The prince looked over to her, momentarily confused by her loud and severe entrance. Before he could respond, she was opening his closet, rummaging furiously for a trunk, a suitcase, _anything_. She ripped through any small storage space she could find, finally locating a large suitcase and hauling it over to his bed.

“Lysandra!” She could barely hear him through her adrenaline. “Lysandra, baby! Stop!”

“There’s no time.”

His eyes looked her over for a couple of seconds before he gripped her by the upper arms.

“What is going on? Please, tell me what’s wrong so I can help.” His face crumpled upon seeing the tracks of her tears, but his hands remained on her arms, afraid she may scurry off again.

“Aedion, I can’t explain right now, so I need you to trust me. You need to leave Terrasen as soon as possible.”

Her partner chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not going anywhere, Lys; not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Aedion, _please_ ,” she shouted. “Either you leave, or I have to kill you.”


	13. Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s) for strong language, mature themes, smut, and allusions to violence.

——————————————————————————

_“Aedion, I can’t explain right now, so I need you to trust me. You need to leave Terrasen as soon as possible.”_

_Her partner chuckled humorlessly. “I’m not going anywhere, Lys; not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”_

_“Aedion, please,” she shouted. “Either you leave, or I have to kill you.”_

—

To his credit, the prince of Terrasen didn’t flinch at her panicked demands. Instead, he flexed his hands subtly to massage the taut muscles of her upper arms, trying to knead the tension out of them. When he spoke, his tone was that of a hostage negotiator.

“How about we stop all this and sit? I need you to tell me what happened with Arobynn.”

His calm demeanor did help to soothe her slightly, but Lysandra remained impatient with the delay that a full update would require. At least he wasn’t asking her to wait and call a meeting with the court. They moved a little more into his rooms, but she couldn’t bear to sit down with the adrenaline running through her veins. Aedion stood nearby, casually perched against the small hutch adjacent to the sitting area.

Lysandra paced the carpet in short distances, the words spilling out of her with peak urgency. On the few occasions she glanced into Aedion’s face, his jaw was set in determination as he processed her update, and the gold of his eyes seemed to glow brighter the more she spoke. She made a mental note to take them in, to do her best to memorize the details of them before she no longer could.

Once she finished, Aedion’s only response was a short, sharp curse under his breath. She watched as his brows came together in contemplation, hoping to the gods that he would arrive at the same decision as she had. If only she had been so lucky.

“Lys, I can’t leave.”

Her eyes widened at the finality of his tone. “Why the hell not? Aedion, I can’t protect you. If I don’t follow through, one of the others will be assigned to do it. We _maybe_ have a couple of days until the lords call their meeting to readdress the proposal, but you’ll need that in travel time. Please.”

The man exhaled a long, labored breath through his nose. “The mission isn’t complete. I can’t just run. What kind of life would that be anyway?”

“One where you’re alive!” Lysandra shouted. “What kind of question is that?”

Aedion’s jaw flickered in frustration, his eyes glowing even brighter. They looked much like his cousin’s when angry; she couldn’t help but notice. “Lysandra, do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do? To abandon you, Aelin, and the rest of the court that brought us this far? I’m not leaving all of you to deal with the mess of it while I crouch in some random cave in Adarlan, for the gods’ sake.”

His voice was quiet, near vicious. The prince she had come to know so intimately was fading by the second.

“You said you would do what needed to be done for Terrasen. Do you remember?”

“Of course I fucking remember, why would—“

“Then you need to remain alive, or you risk leaving them without a leader,” she insisted, her own voice taking on a quality she so rarely heard. “What happens if you’re killed, and despite what they’ve already said, they go through with killing Aelin, too? At least if you run, there’s an heir who could claim the throne and save Terrasen from all this corruption.”

“I never wanted the throne!” Aedion yelled, closing his eyes to gather himself before he spoke again. “That throne has always been Aelin’s. I need to stay and help her to reclaim her birthright. I have no interest in claiming it in her stead.”

Lysandra’s head fell back as she glared at the ceiling, her patience with Aedion’s honor complex fraying at an alarming rate. “Gods, it’s like you’re trying to make this as difficult as possible. Aed, think about _me_ , too. If you go, you’re one less person I have to juggle on my list of who to keep safe. You’re one less person I care about threatened by their retaliation if you’re long gone. Why can’t you understand that?”

“Be pissed all you want, but you have no idea what you’re asking of me. You’re asking a war General to abandon his people and his family for self-preservation,” he explained, closing the distance between them to reclaim his grip on her upper arms. “It goes against every code I’ve ever lived by; formal and unspoken.”

She lowered her chin to look at him, and a solitary tear slipped down her cheek. Aedion’s face softened at seeing it, and he lifted a hand to whisk it away with his finger.

He continued quietly, his eyes scanning her face for any read at all. “And while that may be the case for you, you’re simply reassigning that crippling fear to me. How in the hell am I supposed to run from this when everyone I know and love is risking it all while I’m gone? I’ll go mad.”

Truth be told, she hadn’t considered that perspective. She assumed he could leave temporarily and rejoin the court once everything was handled, but there were no guarantees that they could navigate the threat successfully. Especially without Aedion’s input and skill.

Lysandra bit her lip as she fought another wave of tears. She was wildly unsuccessful with that.

“I just want you to be okay, and it’s hard for me to see how I can make that happen without causing any risk to Eva.”

“Well, maybe you could pull Eva from school. The two of you could lay low in Adarlan while we figure all this out. Dorian will house the two of you; no question.”

As tempting as it was, she knew it wouldn’t do any good. “That would be wonderful, but Arobynn would never rest until he tracked us down. It would blow our cover entirely, ruin the whole mission, and he would want justice paid. I appreciate the thought, though.”

The prince blessed her with a soft smile as he moved both of his hands to cup her cheeks. His thumbs worked across her high cheekbones to combat the tracks of tears that ran there, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a lost cause. They weren’t going to stop anytime soon.

He placed a tender kiss to her forehead, lingering there as she spoke again. “Where’s the guy who was brooding when this mission started because he had to give everything up? This would be an easier sell to that guy.”

Aedion chuckled softly, barely a huff of air through his nose and a small rumble in his chest. “Well, things changed,” he murmured. Lysandra picked up on a heaviness in his words, and she knew his next were important. “That guy wasn’t pathetically in love with you.”

She stiffened at his declaration. How was she supposed to mediate such terror at what this meant for them with such unfiltered joy?

“Aedion... no.” Her words hadn’t been carefully selected, to say the least.

She regretted them instantly when she felt his violent flinch at her reaction. Her cheeks felt instantly cold when his hands fell to his sides. His face was unreadable, a mask of veiled indifference, as he slid his hands into his pockets and moved away from her.

“Is this the part where you push me away?” Aedion asked dryly, taking the several steps back to lean against the hutch once more.

“What? No, that’s not what I—“

The faintest glint in his turquoise eyes told her she’d hit him right where it hurt; that her words had landed a mark she never knew he had. Despite that small tell, he rested lazily against the furniture, his posture riddled with defensive arrogance.

“Stop it, Lysandra. If you’re about to give me some monologue about the mission and how I’m nothing to you; how I’m an _assignment_ and nothing more, you can save it.”

Fresh tears, although it was nearly impossible to tell where one set stopped and another began, started to roll down her cheeks. Lysandra hated how much having her own words thrown at her stung. This must have been the Aedion that Lorcan had alluded to; the one Aedion warned her about when he said he didn’t like who he was. Her heart clenched at the difference in the man before her, especially upon realizing her words were the ones that brought this side of him out.

“That’s... it’s not...” she trailed off, her emotions choking off any productive speech.

“Actually, maybe this could be good. You know, for when you have to announce that to the court. Give me your best show, Lys. Make it really good, too,” he dared smoothly with a jerk of his chin. “Go on; I want to _believe_ you.”

A soft whimper left her mouth. Lysandra raised her hand to stifle a sob, shaking her head as she took him in. She struggled to reconcile this version of Aedion with the one she knew, and it was tempting to simply flee the scene rather than try. Her feet wouldn’t carry her off.

“Do your worst, Lysandra. Tell me that I don’t matter to you; that you never cared about me. Make me believe that you manipulated my trust so blatantly, and I never saw it coming. Lie to me, baby,” he urged, his tone venomous.

The tears poured in earnest now, leaving her cloudy and short of breath. A sob tore through her chest, and Lysandra lowered her hand there to try and pace her breathing.

“I...” she trailed off, taking a couple of deep breaths in a failed attempt to steady her emotions. The sound of her broken voice seemed to strike true at the Aedion she knew; if the unsteadiness of his facial expression was any indication. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

Her words must have snapped whatever trance Aedion had found himself under, and his face crumpled as she continued to sob. Her backside had barely hit the cushion of the nearby armchair before he’d traveled the short distance and was on his knees before her, cupping her face gently in his large hands. Lysandra wanted to be angry, wanted to shove his petty comforts away, but she found that she simply couldn’t.

“Gods, I’m an asshole,” he muttered, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. His thumbs resumed their attempts at drying her cheeks. “I’m sorry. My mind is all over the place, and I’m taking it out on you. I don’t want us to fall apart now. There’s too much at stake.”

That hadn’t been the right thing to say, and she found herself leaning abruptly away from him. “Oh, you realized the risk to the mission and want to be agreeable _now_? How convenient,” she spat.

Aedion’s eyes tracked every movement on her face, the same look of devastation etched into his features.

“Of course not,” he breathed, shaking his head gently to prove his adamance. “I’m not talking about the mission right now. I’m talking about us; me and you, what we have. I don’t want to turn our backs on this.”

Lysandra lowered her forehead to his, the intense emotions softening her quickly to the sincerity in his voice.

“Please don’t ask me to leave you,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers delicately. “Just— give it some time. We’ll figure it out, I promise.”

“Okay,” she whispered back as she leaned into him more heavily.

Aedion’s lips closed on hers urgently, igniting a fire that had been dormant beneath all her panic and heartbreak. Somehow, it seemed like she could never be close enough to him, and she longed to feel the warmth of his skin pressed against hers.

One of his hands moved into the hair at her nape, angling her head back slightly so that he could claim her fully. Lysandra whimpered into his mouth, earning a curse from her partner. She made room for him between her legs, and he pressed his body into her, the both of them grasping at each other’s shirts to discard them as quickly as possible. Aedion stood to rid himself of his pants and boxers; taking Lysandra’s hand to encourage her to stand and removing hers as well.

Grasping her by the rib cage, he gently lifted her body to his. Lysandra wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, circling her arms around his neck and burying her fingers in his long hair. She couldn’t think beyond the feel of his hands clutching her back and his mouth moving against hers. Aedion carried them over to his bed and knelt at the edge of the mattress to lower them both gently.

So many emotions, ripe and all-consuming, exploded in Lysandra’s chest at his tenderness. Another sob forced its way out of her chest, and Aedion immediately pulled away, sliding over to her side to give her room. She appreciated his consideration of her headspace, but she regretted the loss of his warmth immediately. He propped his head on his palm, using his free hand to turn her face delicately toward him.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. The caress of his voice soothed her more than he knew. “I hate that I piled more on your shoulders.”

Lysandra shook her head back and forth, her brow furrowed as she collected herself enough to explain. “That’s not it. We’re both going through our fair share, and I know I asked a lot of you.” She brought her hand up to trace his chain, eventually resting her hand on the side of his neck. Her voice was timid when she gathered her nerve. “I love you, too, Aedion.”

His eyes shined at her admission, a smile blooming across his tan face. It was softer than usual, fond even, and the sight of it made her throat constrict.

“I’m scared of what that means for us; how he could use it to his favor. That’s why I’ve kept it—“

“Me too,” he breathed, saving her from having to explain her reasons. Of course he understood. Didn’t he always?

The delay grew intolerable, so Lysandra lifted her head to press her lips to his. Aedion grunted his approval, angling his mouth over hers and resuming the urgency from a few minutes before. His fingers glided across her skin to find her waist, causing her to arch into his touch as if pulled by some invisible tether.

Their movements were deliberate, nearly automatic as they gave into the repressed intensity of everything they felt for each other. Lysandra rolled toward him to press her body against his, throwing her leg over his hip to lie as tightly to his warmth as possible. Aedion groaned as he gripped her thigh and hiked her knee slightly higher for better access. Their hips rocked against each other, and at feeling his hardened length between their two bodies, Lysandra’s body lit up with wildfire.

She couldn’t stand the separation any longer, especially with their fresh declarations hanging in the air of Aedion’s bedroom, and reached between them to line him up with her entrance. Their kiss was interrupted by their collective gasps; Lysandra’s extended by the feel of Aedion’s hand sliding roughly along her thigh to find its home against her hip. His grip anchored her against him, resisting the back and forth motion of his hips as he moved in and out of her.

With surprising speed, Lysandra felt herself quickly approaching release. Aedion maintained a consistent rhythm to the rolling of his hips, the length of him gliding along the top of her opening in a way that delicately teased her clit each time he rocked backward. Rather than trying to resume their kiss, she tucked her face into the crook of his neck as she quickly fell apart. Her head was cradled by the bicep of the arm he wrapped beneath her, his chest swallowing each of the sounds that fell from her lips.

“I’m close,” she whined, a thin layer of sweat covering her entire body.

Aedion maintained his pace, tucking his face down into her neck to place a warm kiss behind her ear. Lysandra was clutching his shoulder blades, and she knew if she were to look, his skin would be littered with small crescents from the impressions of her fingernails. If he felt any pain at her tight grip, he gave no indication. In fact, his husky moans seemed to point to the complete opposite.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me,” he murmured into her neck.

One more thrust was all it took. What felt like a year’s worth of muscle tension left her body all at once, her teeth digging gently into the skin around his collarbone to ground her through the wave of pleasure. Her cries were barely coherent against his skin.

Aedion’s rhythm never faltered. His lips traced the side of her neck in a most delicate torture, following the same path in reverse until he took her earlobe gently between his teeth. His forehead fell to rest against her shoulder, a growl erupting from him as she clenched in the aftershocks of her release.

The tension in her core began to return, regardless of the fact that Lysandra would have considered it impossible just moments before. She placed warm, wet kisses to his neck and the underside of his jaw, basking in the sound of his rough grunts and moans as he chased his own pleasure. At the feel of her lips against his skin, Aedion adjusted her thigh even higher, pinning it against his side with his forearm and gripping her ass tightly.

She leaned her head back to capture his mouth, and Aedion kissed her with matched intensity. It was thorough, all tongue and teeth, interrupted by each of their sounds flowing through his bedroom. Lysandra felt Aedion grow impossibly harder inside her, and judging by that and his louder moans, she knew he wasn’t far from release. He pulled his lips from hers once more to tuck his face into her shoulder.

“Lysandra,” he moaned, his breath fanning over her chest. “I want to feel you one more time. Can you give me one more, love?”

She could only whimper in response. Her impending release competed with any sensible answer to his question. At her non-answer, Aedion snapped his hips more roughly into hers. Both of them were dissolving rapidly against the other; Lysandra’s tighter grip earning a hiss from her partner.

Lysandra cried out in earnest then, her face screwed tightly in pleasure. She clenched her teeth as she put all her focus toward the tension in her core.

“Aedion,” she cried desperately, each of his thrusts punctuated by her short whimpers.

His moans were guttural, and just as desperate, as his hips snapped into hers. With a hoarse cry to the gods, Lysandra was coming again, and Aedion was quick to follow her. His grip was bruising as he pressed into her as deeply as possible, her name rolling off his lips repeatedly where her neck met her shoulder.

The only sounds that followed were their harsh breaths into the quiet room. Lysandra released the intense grip of her fingers to rub soothing circles across Aedion’s back. It took a moment for his muscles to finally relax, his grip on her softening and rubbing softly to soothe any potential hurt. His lips pressed gently to her temple as their chests continued to heave, Lysandra humming in contentment at his affection.

A few minutes of easing each other down passed before Lysandra finally felt compelled to speak.

“It’ll all be okay, right?”

His lips found her forehead, lingering there until his response had them brushing against it. “It has to be.”

—

Lysandra allowed herself to sleep a little later than usual the next morning. She was exhausted; partly from the emotions of the day before, and partly because she and Aedion had spent a good portion of the night wrapped around each other. The two of them would doze off, only to find each others’ bodies across the bed in their sleep. They were equally to blame for awaking the other on those occasions, taking the opportunity to make love lazily between the sheets.

Despite her adamant desire for Aedion to flee Terrasen, she breathed a sigh of relief each time she awoke to find him in bed with her. She wasn’t naive enough to believe things could carry on the way they had been up to that point, and she knew everything would come to a head sooner rather than later. For now, though, she decided to cling to the comfort of his continued presence while she mentally prepared to act as if nothing was amiss around Arobynn and the rest of the team.

Lysandra stretched dramatically, the lingering soreness in her body a bittersweet reminder of she and Aedion’s night. She glanced over to find Aedion’s pillow empty, and her heart started to thunder in her chest. Had he changed his mind? Did he decide to leave Terrasen after all?

A quick visual scan of the room eased her rising nerves. The large suitcase she had pulled from the his closet the night before was still tossed haphazardly across the floor, and his closet door was open to reveal the chaos she’d created. Guilt quickly replaced the relief she felt at seeing the items strewn about. She admonished herself for feeling that way, when it should have been ideal to find that he’d fled to safety. Instead, she’d been flooded with relief that he may be simply reporting early with the Bane.

She threw her hair into a high bun and threw on her most comfortable slacks with a warm sweater. While getting ready, the kitchens sent up a thermos of coffee and a plate of scones, and Lysandra’s stomach growled violently at the smell. She grabbed the thermos and one of the scones and headed down toward the garage. Aedion would probably admonish her for not calling to have Lorcan escort her, but she felt like she could handle a walk through the palace without a chaperone. The men in her life were no better than mother hens as it was.

“Miss,” a voice announced from behind her, “Miss!”

She turned to see a palace Guard running over the ornate carpet, his chest heaving as he approached. Once he stopped, he promptly straightened his posture and his uniform.

“I apologize for being so curt, but I have time-sensitive news. You are Miss Ennar, yes?”

Lysandra nodded, confused by the Guard’s urgency.

“I went up to his Highness’ quarters and thought I’d missed you entirely. I was hoping to catch you in the garage, but—“

“You said it’s time sensitive?” Lysandra interrupted. Her stomach was turning as it was without his rambling.

“Yes, of course. My apologies. I’m to inform you that you have a visitor. I don’t have much context, I’m afraid, but they’re being escorted to the Emerald Drawing Room by the Lords Moonbeam. Commander Salvaterre will meet you there.”

“A visitor? I wasn’t expecting anyone, least of all here.”

“I understand, Miss. Commander Salvaterre will be able to provide more information, I’m sure. I was only given the most pertinent.”

“Okay,” she conceded, blinking away her confusion. Considering she had no clue who could be trusted around her, she schooled her face into neutrality to avoid giving herself away.

As they walked, Lysandra sent an email to her colleagues from her phone, letting them know she would be “offsite” for the morning. Her stomach sank as she assured them she would be in the office by the afternoon. Until she knew who her visitor was, she wondered if it had been appropriate to make such promises.

They were first to arrive in the room, so Lysandra took it upon herself to claim one of the armchairs while she waited. The Guard stood near the door to vet anyone who tried to enter the room. The events of the last months had made her paranoid, and she couldn’t help but hope that the Guard was on her side of things. He’d given her nothing to the contrary, but if he was good at his job, he wouldn’t. She shook off the unproductive spiral.

Lorcan arrived next with a large paper cup of coffee in hand. He looked tired; dark circles beneath each of his dark brown eyes and his tan complexion paler than usual. Lysandra worried what this mission was doing to him.

“Lys,” he greeted, managing a small grin for her benefit.

“Morning, Commander,” she teased. His grin twitched infinitesimally at that.

“I wasn’t sure I would be able to join this morning given the impromptu nature of this visit, but I’m glad I didn’t have to ‘throw you to the wolves’, so to speak.”

“Clever,” she deadpanned, picking up on his subtle reference of the twins.

The self-satisfied smirk she expected didn’t appear. Her stomach dropped at the implications of Lorcan’s ego leaving the building.

“Look, I don’t know where to start. I have no idea what you know or—“

Lorcan was interrupted by the brisk opening of the door. Lysandra’s throat constricted at the sight of one of her colleagues from the Keep, Caio, who worked mostly behind the scenes gathering intel for several missions at any given time. He was also one of their most skilled in combat and defense, meaning he was usually a fly on the wall for back-up when needed. Although she didn’t work directly with him often, she would know his face anywhere. Arobynn had carefully selected Caio for all of Evangeline’s transport to and from her school. Due to his sheer competence, Arobynn didn’t have to sacrifice any additional man power to ensure her safety. Her blood ran cold at this intentional meeting rather than simply seeing her at the Keep.

“Good morning, Lysandra,” he greeted with a dip of his head. “Lorcan.”

The Commander nodded his head in return, and Lysandra’s snapped her head in his direction. He didn’t acknowledge her.

“What are you doing here, Caio?”

The words were out of Lysandra’s mouth before she could think better of them. Was this some kind of threat? Was Arobynn trying to show her that he could reach her anywhere? Maybe it was a subtle reminder of her task, with Caio as Arobynn’s contingency plan.

The man opened his mouth to speak, but the door opened once more. She heard Fenrys’ enthusiastic voice before she saw the twins. They appeared to be alone until they walked into the room and the blond moved his large form to the side to reveal their charge. Lysandra was on her feet in milliseconds.

“Eva,” she breathed, tears springing to her eyes.

“Lys!” Evangeline squealed eagerly, her short legs carrying her in small, quick steps over to her sister.

Her small arms wrapped around Lysandra’s waist with impressive strength for a 10-year old girl. Lysandra wrapped her arms around her head, cradling her against her body as tears rolled down her face. She wasn’t scheduled to the home for a couple of weeks, and her early arrival made Lysandra’s blood run cold as she remembered all of Arobynn’s threats.

The girl seemed like she was unharmed; totally unfazed by the heavy air in the room. Through her emotions, Lysandra struggled to mediate the details of her current situation. It didn’t make sense for Caio to bring Evangeline to the palace if Arobynn meant to threaten her, and it definitely didn’t make sense for Lorcan to assign the Moonbeams to her detail so casually.

Said twins moved forward to sit on a small chaise nearby, reluctant to be beyond a certain proximity from their charge. She knew they weren’t insinuating a threat in Lysandra, but she was pleased to see they were taking such care as if threats could be around any corner. If nothing else, she didn’t trust that Caio wasn’t a threat himself; despite his history with chauffeuring her sister.

“I was hoping someone here could tell me that exact thing,” Caio replied in reference to her earlier question. His eyes scanned the room, but no one took the bait. Lysandra continued to look at him as if he were boring her to tears.

Caio’s eyes landed on Lorcan and held his stare. The tension was palpable in the quiet room until Connall turned his head to excuse the palace Guard. He’d been long since forgotten by everyone else, so Lysandra appreciated the twin’s continued vigilance. She kept her eyes scanning the space between Caio and the Commander. Her patience was all but exhausted.

“So, you’re who’s been working with Lorcan, then,” she stated. There was no hesitation in her voice.

Caio, to his credit, nodded meekly. Lorcan’s face gave nothing away as she scanned his face, but she didn’t exactly expect much either. His insistence on keeping the identity of his source was for their safety, so if Caio was willing to expose himself, she supposed it was his own business.

“I would appreciate all of your discretion,” he added. “As you can imagine, it’s taken years to infiltrate Arobynn’s systems and his trust.”

Everyone nodded their assent, but it did nothing to alleviate the tension in the room. Evangeline stood with her arm wrapped around Lysandra’s waist, unsure of what moves she was allowed to make. There were so many things Lysandra wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask, but she knew it wasn’t suitable for her younger sister’s ears.

As if sensing her apprehension, the golden twin hopped to his feet and walked over to her little sister. Evangeline’s eyes grew larger at his approach, and a deep blush covered her cheeks. Oh boy, Lysandra thought, the last thing she needed was Eva’s broken heart at the hands of a Moonbeam. He assumed an almost regal tone of voice, offering his arm to her as an escort.

“Miss Evangeline,” he began, “it is customary to begin a stay with the royal family with a guided tour of the Palace and grounds.” His dark eyes flicked up to meet Lysandra’s, who nodded subtly in permission. “Would you allow Connall and me to show you around?”

Evangeline swallowed thickly with nerves, looking equal parts nervous and eager to spend the morning anywhere with Fenrys. Those eyes turned to peer into Lysandra’s face for permission, and she nearly chuckled at how much the simple look communicated. Her sister’s shoulders relaxed once she agreed, turning to Fenrys and reaching up to wrap her forearm around his.

Once the door clicked closed, Lysandra’s attention landed immediately on Caio and Lorcan. The two men were communicating seemingly through nothing but loaded looks, and she was growing weary of it.

“Why is Evangeline home?” Her voice was quiet, but the tension was impossible to miss.

Lorcan scoffed from somewhere behind her, but she ignored him.

“You weren’t scheduled to pick her up for weeks. Did Arobynn send you early?”

“No— no. This has nothing to do with Arobynn, to my knowledge. All I know is that Salvaterre called me in the middle of the night and demanded that the trip occur immediately. I’ve been on the road since 2AM.”

Before she could demand more answers, Caio was reaching into the interior pocket of his sport coat. Lysandra tensed, immediately on the defense, but all he produced was a small box. She relaxed at seeing the seemingly benign object in his hand. Lorcan’s deep voice sounded throughout the room next, his tone dry and serious.

“Lys, I’m hoping you can help me fill in some blanks.” She turned to look toward him. “As it stands right now, we have an agent who has gone rogue. I’m hoping you can provide some context.”

“Why would I be able to do that? Who is it?”

Lorcan balked at the idea that she was none the wiser, his eyes wide and shoulders tense. There was a pregnant pause that followed her words, and it was nearly eating her from the inside out. The man pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, steeling himself to respond.

“Ennar, it’s Aedion. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

Heat rushed to the surface of her skin, a thin coat of sweat erupting across the small of her back. Her breathing grew more shallow as she fought to process what he was telling her, but for the life of her, it wouldn’t register.

“I was with him all night,” she argued.

“Was he there when you woke up this morning?”

“Well, no, but—“

“I have something for you,” Caio interrupted, causing Lysandra to spin in his direction.

Regardless of his connections to Lorcan, her colleague had some nerve to interrupt an incredibly delicate exchange. She stared him down as he approached, his arm extended to offer the small box. His nod prompted her to open it, and her heart beat erratically at the contents.

“Where did you get this?”

“The box was given to Annie to pass to me. We stopped to pick it up before coming here.”

His face was earnest, but all Lysandra could see was blinding, blood red rage.

“Is this some kind of threat?” she spat, unable to extend the benefit of the doubt.

She eased the box onto the nearby table, her muscles winding tightly like a snake poised to strike. The man only shook his head, confusion clouding his features. She didn’t give him time to respond.

“What the fuck is going on? I swear to the gods if Arobynn has done a fucking _thing_ —“

Her words were interrupted by her actions; overriding everything she originally planned to say. She lunged for Caio suddenly, unable to hold her temper any longer. The man moved to evade her attack, but her momentum was halted by an arm around her waist before she made it to him. Lorcan.

“Lorcan,” she growled, willing to launch herself at the commander, too if the situation required it. “Let me go.”

“Ennar, cool it.”

Deciding that reasoning with Lorcan was a lost cause in her state, she refocused her efforts on freeing herself from his grasp. She knew she appeared as chaotic as her brain in that moment, but pride and self-preservation had no home there. With as much strength as she could muster, she angled her foot to kick backward toward the inside of his knee. Her kick landed its mark, causing Lorcan to stumble.

He barked a string of curses through his pain, but much to her frustration, his grip faltered only slightly. In fact, it served to allow him the opportunity to adjust his grasp and secure an even tighter hold on her. Lysandra had many tactical skills, but even she had to admit her size disadvantage against the giant of a man wrangling her. She abandoned her physical efforts temporarily to address Caio again.

“He never takes them off,” she snarled through clenched teeth. “How the fuck did you get them? Do _not_ make the mistake of **lying to me.”

He stayed so annoyingly placid, making her feel like a child throwing a tantrum. “Like I said before, I got the box from Annie. Neither of us knew what it contained. Aedion delivered it to her personally this morning.”

Lorcan was the next to speak. “Lysandra, I’m going to let you go, but I need you to sit down. There’s a lot of information floating around, and it’s plenty to get my head around already.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth in fear of escalation. Lorcan sat in the chair near hers, gesturing toward Caio to have a seat as well. Despite Lysandra’s outburst, he didn’t seem apprehensive to do so.

“I think some context could help here. Since you know we’re working together, there’s more you should know about Caio.”

Lysandra sat up straighter, curiosity taking the place of her rage; for the time being, anyway.

“There’s still a lot to figure out here,” he continued, gesturing in a circle between them, “but we’ll get no closer to that by ripping each other apart.”

The two of them nodded as if being scolded by their father for engaging in too much horseplay.

“Lys, his name isn’t actually Caio. That’s the name he took when he began collecting intel on Arobynn Hamel’s movements. This is Vaughan. He’s one of my oldest colleagues and friends, and I would trust him with my life. I believe you can do the same.”

She gaped at her friend, amazed at how thoroughly they’d managed to keep Caio— no, Vaughan’s— identity a secret. Lorcan went on to explain his assignment, how even the other members of the court were ignorant of his placement. His role as someone very much in the background had been entirely intentional, and the others thought he’d taken a private security job a couple of hours outside of Orynth. Lorcan had worried that if too many people knew of his actual assignment, the odds increased that he could be compromised unintentionally.

It surprised her to find out that Vaughan had been the one to notify Lorcan of Lysandra’s continued employment at the Keep. Once he’d been present for enough conversations to realize Aelin and Lysandra had history, he recommended that they consider the potential of an alliance with her. In all honesty, she had always assumed the court had stumbled upon her employment status through the grapevine, and the strategy had followed.

Finally, she nodded in acknowledgement of the information. Her focus shifted to Vaughan who sat in his armchair looking as agreeable as ever. She had to appreciate his ability to adapt.

“What else do you know about Aedion? Why was he at the Keep?”

“I don’t have details. I didn’t ask any questions for fear of tipping anyone off. It’s not like me.”

Lysandra traced the border of her lips absentmindedly as she considered his words. For a second, she was hopeful that Aedion had come to his senses and fled Terrasen, but that theory didn’t sit right. He wouldn’t leave his dog tags in the custody of Arobynn’s personnel. What would be the significance of that? She turned to Lorcan.

“What did he say to you when he showed up at your rooms last night?”

“Very little,” he admitted begrudgingly. “He had a certain urgency about him and said he had a lot to take care of through the night. He just kept insisting that Evangeline be accounted for and assigned protection. That’s all he would tell me.”

She considered that for several moments. So much of it seemed erratic and impulsive; none of which was like Aedion Ashryver on a molecular level. It didn’t make sense. The subtle shine of the brushed metal caught the corner of her eye, and she dared another glance at the small box. The panic that had taken her upon initially seeing them threatened to capture her once more until she realized the small slip of paper laying beneath them. She scrambled to pull it free, nearly spilling everything into her lap in her haste.

Tears sprang to her eyes at seeing the sharp, angular letters of Aedion’s handwriting. Something seemingly so inconsequential suddenly felt like a tether to him that she never knew she would need. She blinked against the blur of her vision to read the short note.

> _Love,_
> 
> _If you’re reading this, Evangeline has made her way to you. I promised to keep you and Eva safe, and I intend to keep that promise. In return, will you keep these warm for me? I’ll look forward to getting them back from you. That would mean we’ve made our way back to each other._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Aedion_

Lysandra didn’t bother trying to hide the tears steadily streaming down her face. She was relieved to know that Evangeline’s homecoming was indeed the result of good intentions rather than some sick power move by her boss, but she also found herself incredibly angry with Aedion for abandoning her after all the things he’d begged of her the night prior. And to leave without an explanation? No goodbye?

She stood abruptly, determined to figure out how things had shifted so quickly. It terrified her to think that Aedion’s actions could be motivated by interference from Arobynn, Tern, or any other of his lackeys vying for Arobynn’s approval. If that was the case, they needed to be acting sooner rather than later.

“Where are you going?” Lorcan asked, snapping her attention from her internal spiral.

“Back to Aedion’s rooms. Something doesn’t add up.”

She vaguely heard the two men exchange information. Something about Vaughan returning to the Keep to keep an ear to the ground. Lorcan scrambled after her, eventually falling into stride right next to her.

“Why did you agree?”

Dark eyes met hers, darting back and forth between her stare and the path in front of them. “What?”

“Why did you agree to Aedion’s demands? You’re our commander, right? Could you have refused him?”

He was quiet for some time. That was fine with Lysandra since they were arriving at Aedion’s door anyway, and she needed to unlock it. She immediately started to scan the space for any clues to Aedion’s whereabouts, growing progressively more frustrated as she saw nothing noteworthy.

Lorcan’s deep voice was rough once he deigned to speak. “I wouldn’t have been able to handle the guilt if something happened to you or Evangeline.”

“Hmm?” she questioned, the distraction causing her to forget her previous question to him.

“You asked why I agreed. I’ve seen men who were hellbent with purpose, and I saw that in Aedion last night. I didn’t want to deny his request and risk him going through with his plan anyway. The consequences could have been...”

Lysandra’s head snapped toward her friend as his words trailed off, taking in the far-off look in his eyes. If she wasn’t so determined to find a lead on Aedion’s whereabouts, she wouldn’t have been able to resist gripping Lorcan tightly in a hug. Their disagreement regarding the weight of his decisions and the impacts on his loved ones’ lives clanged through her brain and made her emotional all over again.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves as her eyes scanned the expanse of the small sitting area. They snagged on something on the small table near her favorite armchair; the chair where she would usually take breakfast each morning.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she approached to grip the small piece of paper. With a trembling hand, she raised it to read another note from Aedion; likely the one she should have seen first that morning. Of all mornings for her to sleep in, she thought.

> _Please trust me, Lys._
> 
> _Keep practicing. I love you._
> 
> _\- Aedion_

Lysandra found herself at a loss at what the fuck that was supposed to mean. The prince couldn’t have picked a worse time to be clever or cryptic. She only knew one person with any chance at all to help untangle the web before it got too intricate.

“Lorcan, we’re going to need Aelin.”


	14. Part 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 😬😬😬

——————————————————————————

Lorcan had phoned Aelin from Aedion’s line to ensure she was in her rooms, and within seconds, the two of them were walking swiftly toward her quarters. Come to think of it, Lysandra had never visited that area of the castle. Her time spent in Terrasen’s palace usually involved the war room, Aedion’s rooms, and the occasional common area. She focused her mental energy on guessing what Aelin’s living area would look like; the decor, the furniture, etc.

Anything to prevent the panic rising in her throat.

Lorcan’s long legs proved to keep her out of her thoughts, too, as she scrambled to keep pace with him along the way. If he noticed, he didn’t care. His speed remained constant, so Lysandra made sure to school her breathing so that he didn’t hear her panting next to him. Before long, they were in front of Aelin’s door, waiting on an attendant to let them inside.

“Been a while on cardio, Ennar?”

So much for that.

“Fuck you,” she spat, ignoring Lorcan’s rough chuckle.

The door opened, and they walked through with little ceremony. Aelin was seated near her window, reading over some type of report and sipping her morning tea. She was the portrait of unruffled calm as she eyed them curiously.

“It’s a little early for you, Lorcan, but it’s nice to see you, Lys.”

The commander rolled his eyes, but his voice was professional. He filled her in on the events of the morning: Evangeline’s arrival, Vaughan’s role undercover, and Aedion’s absence. The news of Vaughan’s involvement had Aelin’s eyes widening, but she saved her comments for another time. Lysandra was sure to add the detail of Aedion’s dog tags that Vaughan had given her and reiterate the ultimatum that she’d been given by Arobynn.

The princess took the information in with a furrowed brow, but she gave no other indication of her inner thoughts. There were times where Lysandra envied Aelin’s game face, but at that moment, it only served to stoke her emotions. She huffed in annoyance, earning a subtle tilt of Aelin’s chin in her direction.

“What?”

“Just wondering how we should proceed, is all. This seems rather time sensitive if Aedion has turned himself in to Arobynn.”

“Do we have confirmation that he’s done so?” Her voice was calm, unaffected. “I get he delivered his dog tags to Arobynn’s assistant, but do we know that he stayed?”

“Well... no,” Lysandra stammered. “But all the signs point to him having done that.”

“Hmm,” Aelin mused, turning her head to look out the window. “Before we do anything, I think we need to take the time to figure this out. If Aedion’s made a move, he obviously has a plan. Acting too quickly risks throwing a wrench in all of it and putting him in further danger.”

Lysandra gawked at the back of Aelin’s head, then turned to Lorcan to see a quizzical expression on his face. He seemed to be just as conflicted by the princess’ reaction, or rather, her non-reaction. Lorcan cleared his throat.

“I know you’re no stranger to rogue side missions, but I would prefer if we mediate this sooner rather than later. There are too many loose ends.” There was a slight bite to his words, but Lysandra couldn’t blame him for it.

Aelin’s head whipped in his direction, but Lysandra spoke before she could lash out at the commander.

“Aelin, I hear you. I do, but you and I both know Arobynn well enough to know we don’t have time to see how it all plays out. I can’t pretend to know what Aedion’s thinking, but—“

“What did his note say, Lysandra?”

She could only blink at Aelin’s cool words. She knew it wasn’t genuine curiosity that fueled them considering she’d already told her. No, there was calculation behind those turquoise eyes. Lysandra pretended it didn’t hurt to look directly into them with Aedion’s fate being unknown.

She remembered suddenly that she had fisted the note on the way out of Aedion’s rooms. Stepping toward the princess, she shoved it in her general direction without a word. To open her mouth meant risking her various frustrations flowing out of her. She watched as Aelin’s eyes scanned the small piece of paper, pretending the words weren’t imprinted on the back of her own eyelids.

_Please trust me, Lys._

_Keep practicing. I love you._

_— Aedion_

“This doesn’t seem like the note of someone without a plan, Lys.” Her voice was soft, a glimmer of emotion showing itself.

Lysandra released a sound of frustration nearing a full growl. Lorcan’s head snapped her way as Rowan’s tall form walked through the doorway to join them. His eyes scanned the room, taking them all in, as he moved to take the seat across from Aelin.

“Why should we honor his fucking plan, Aelin? Have you forgotten that we all had a plan? This whole court? He didn’t honor it, so why do we let him do whatever he sees fit? He’s putting himself in danger that he didn’t need to face alone. How can you be so complicit?”

“Why do you think he did it, Lysandra?” Aelin demanded, her voice raising. “I hardly agree with his decision, but I have to trust his intuition and his skills. We have no clue where he is in his plan, and if we intervene now, we risk his blood on our hands. I won’t do it!”

All she could see was red in her field of vision, and she was only mildly aware of anyone’s presence other than the princess’. Her voice dropped in lethal calm.

“Fine. I can’t talk you out of supporting this self-sacrificial bullshit, but I don’t have to accept it. If we’re all doing whatever the fuck we want, I’m going after him. I’m late for work, anyway.”

She spun on her heel, and the attendant already had the door open for her exit. Without even the satisfaction of slamming the door behind her, Lysandra headed for the lion’s den.

—

The door to the Keep was locked when Lysandra pulled the handle, causing a sense of absolute dread to flow across her skin. She retrieved her employee ID from her tote and scanned in. Annie sat at her usual desk, smiling tensely at Lysandra as she approached her desk.

“Why’s the door locked?” Deep down she knew, but she wondered what the story was around the office.

“It’s been a weird day already,” Annie lamented, loosing a heavy breath as she looked up at her. “It was really chaotic this morning, but it got really quiet all of a sudden. Not sure what that’s about, but Arobynn ordered lockdown protocol. Only people with IDs or ordered explicitly by Arobynn can come in or out.”

Lysandra’s stomach dropped to the floor, but she mastered her face into indifference.

Her tone was as nonchalant as she could muster. “You never know around here. It’s always something.”

Annie huffed a short laugh. “Indeed. Well, I think there’s some coffee left if you’re interested. Other than that, Arobynn asked that I direct you to conference room 4 as soon as you’re able.”

“Mustn’t keep him waiting,” Lysandra mocked, trying to keep the air around them as light as possible. “Thanks, Annie.”

On heavy feet, she forced herself to maintain a casual pace as she walked toward the conference room. Her heart thundered within her chest at twice the pace of her footfalls, leaving her feeling chaotic and unnerved. She paused with her hand on the conference room door and took a long, deep breath. It was best to prepare herself for anything she may see, but even in the event that she couldn’t, she told herself she only had to manage her external reaction. Her internal reaction was her own and an entirely different story.

Hauling the heavy door toward her, she watched as the latch clued her colleagues to her presence. Her eyes locked onto Tern’s, but she saw Mullin’s and Harding’s on her from the periphery. They regarded her with grim annoyance, but before she could ask what the fuck their problems were that day, Arobynn’s voice shook her from her thoughts.

“Nice of you to join us, Olivia. Perhaps this day will prove more productive now that you’ve arrived.”

“Conference Room 4” was a pretty moniker for the Keep’s interrogation room. The set-up emulated a lecture hall on a smaller scale, complete with long tables staggered in height to allow for numerous attendees to see the platform at the front of the room. There was an aisle of stairs between them, leading down to the pit. Her colleagues were scattered at various tables, seemingly spread out in case ground needed to be covered quickly.

What caught her breath in her throat; however, was when she looked toward her boss’ voice at the base of the stairs. There was a certain arrogance etched into his features, but more nerve-wrecking was the flash of golden hair she saw over his shoulder thanks to her elevated perspective. She didn’t dare look at him immediately for fear of what she would see, but she swore his posture stiffened at Arobynn’s words.

“I was chasing some leads this morning. I apologize for the delay. What do we have here?”

She hated the indifference in her voice, the taunt that she aimed toward Aedion. Deep down, she knew he would see it for the show that it was. At least, she hoped he would.

“It seems your charge snuck away to do some investigating himself this morning. He showed up first thing to speak with Tern, but I wasn’t made aware of his presence until a couple of hours ago.” The irritation he aimed at Tern was laced through his voice, and Lysandra didn’t envy her colleague for it. She turned her attention his way, if only to rip her temptation away from looking at Aedion.

“What business did he have with you?” Lysandra demanded, jutting her chin toward Tern.

She moved to one of the conference tables, setting her things down and getting settled. She chose one on the same side of the room as the doors, even with Tern who was on the other side of the aisle. Harding and Mullin flanked the aisle as well, placed a couple of rows down from the two of them.

“He came inquiring about you, actually,” Tern responded as if Aedion didn’t exist at all. “According to him, you’d arrived at the palace pretty shaken, and he felt like you were holding back. I told him that you’d been having more one on ones with Arobynn lately, but that’s all I knew.” He paused to allow her the chance to respond. She didn’t take it. “The interesting part was that he seemed surprised to hear that. Apparently, you’d only shared with him that I’d been giving you a hard time.”

She swallowed thickly, wondering for the life of her why Aedion would have chosen to share that news with him. Her heart crumpled for the man before them who had been so blinded that he’d walked straight into Arobynn’s web. His desire to avenge her had outweighed—

Wait. That wasn’t right at all, was it? Aedion Ashryver wasn’t a man who went in blind or sold her out to her colleagues by telling them she was sharing intel. There was a reason to this.

“That’s not exactly what I’d told him, is it?”

Hopefully she could get Tern to fill in the gaps for her, to lay out the narrative Aedion had presented. Her odds of doing so with Tern were far greater than being able to do it with Arobynn. That was her next clue that everything happening was very much by design.

“No. That’s the part I can’t figure out,” Tern responded, his jaw and shoulders tense. “He said I’d made advances at you, that I’d made you uncomfortable by coming onto you. Maybe you can tell me what that’s about.”

Shit, could she? She dared a quick glance at Aedion, but he was staring resolutely at his lap with a grave look on his handsome face. She hoped it wasn’t obvious to the others how badly she wanted to smooth his wrinkled brow.

She scoffed in Tern’s direction. “Don’t get so worked up, Tern. He was badgering me about what was wrong, and I gave him an excuse to keep him from asking more questions. How was I to know he’d bust in here to play the part of hero?”

Her colleague’s jaw ticked in irritation as he considered his next words. “It’s odd that you picked me for your lie when it’s you and Arobynn who have been having all these secret meetings together without the rest of us,” he spat. Lysandra dared a glance toward their boss. His face had gone totally blank, but his eyes were fixed on Tern with a predator’s focus.

If the man noticed, he didn’t let on as he continued talking. “I told you I knew you were up to something. Now is as good a time as any to come out with it.”

The fool really thought he’d backed her into a corner. She almost laughed at his myopathy, but she felt a sort of sympathy for him. Aedion had used the bits of information Lysandra shared over time to stoke Tern’s paranoia and effectively drive a wedge between him and Arobynn without so much as lifting a finger, really. If she wasn’t so angry with the prince, she’d be impressed.

It was his voice, low and defeated, that broke her train of thought. “Just drop the charade, Olivia. I know about the baby.”

Lysandra’s head whipped toward Aedion, who now looked directly into her face. It was then that she realized the zip ties that bound his wrists to the metal table next to him and the various bruises across his face. She choked down a growl at seeing him injured in such a way, but she couldn’t afford the show of emotion. She focused her energy instead on ignoring his split bottom lip and the deep purple beneath both of his eyes. She pretended his nose wasn’t swollen and slightly crooked, that it wasn’t his blood dripped across his stretched shirt. She’d rip the limbs off of every man present for what they’d done.

But she had to navigate Aedion’s damned riddles first.

Lysandra channeled her rage into an incredulous tone. “What?!”

It was Tern who took over. “It all adds up; your meetings with Arobynn, the vomiting in your office. It’s not like you did well hiding it. When Ashryver mentioned you’d been run down lately and seemed off, it wasn’t hard to put the details together.”

If not for the dire nature of their situation, Lysandra may have laughed at the dramatic widening of Arobynn’s eyes. So, Aedion had succeeded in his goal to drive a wedge within Arobynn’s inner circle. Was the pregnancy an attempt to keep her safe from physical harm? Should she lean into the theory or deny it? Those questions were a couple of many examples of why Aedion should have run his plan by her before the execution phase. Damn him.

“What is this about?” Arobynn demanded, his patience hanging by a thread. “Tern, you’ve lost your damned mind.”

What purpose could this possibly fucking serve? Lysandra willed her brain to pick it apart, to think like Aedion would. He could have taken so many other avenues, but he didn’t. She reflected on his note in hopes she could decipher any hidden meanings.

_Please trust me, Lys._

_Keep practicing. I love you._

_— Aedion_

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Arobynn turned his attention to Aedion when Tern didn’t give him anything. “What the fuck is this about? These claims are ridiculous.” His voice was low and smooth as he asked, his focus now trained solely on the prince.

“How the fuck would I know?” Aedion snarled. “Is this some petty fucking revenge? My cousin refuses your hand and you knock up Olivia to even the score?”

Arobynn took a step forward toward him, and Lysandra knew whatever he intended to do wasn’t good for Aedion. Before he could close the distance entirely, she spoke up.

“Enough of this. There’s no _baby_ , Aedion. It seems you’ve fallen to Tern’s delusions.”

The prince’s eyes flicked over to hers, and she swore she saw a gleam of approval in them. At that moment, she was running on pure adrenaline, so she couldn’t take much credit for actual strategy. She only knew that her composure would shred the moment Arobynn laid a hand on Aedion in her presence.

Arobynn seemed content with her interruption, a feral smirk dragging across his mouth. He straightened the lapels of his jacket before sliding his hands into his pockets. “Has it yet occurred to you why she’s here in the first place?”

Aedion made a show of looking from Arobynn to Lysandra and back again. “N-no.”

The rhythm of the exchange started to settle into her bones, and Lysandra let out an ironic sounding laugh at Aedion’s apprehension. Arobynn turned toward her, but her eyes remained fixed on Aedion over his shoulder. That same gleam sparkled in his eyes as if encouraging her to continue. She could have been imagining it to justify her actions, but she decided instead to believe he was directing her through whatever the hell they were doing. He dared a quick half-smile, barely a swift uptick at the corner of his mouth, as if to say— _Come on, Lys. Dance with me. Just one more time._

Except this time, he was prepared to let her lead.

“Truly?” she taunted. “Not once since I got here have you questioned it?”

He shook his head to reiterate his response. The others had no way of knowing that he would have questioned it immediately under different circumstances, that he was lying through his teeth. She was more than happy to use it to her advantage, turning to address Tern fully.

“For fuck’s sake, Tern. Arobynn and I aren’t having an affair. We’ve been meeting alone because there’s a level to this mission that only concerns me. Although, it doesn’t surprise me that your ego would have you assume you should be present.” She paused to allowed anyone to respond, but no one did. “The risk of it is mine, so I preferred to discuss it alone.”

“Does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” The anger in Aedion’s voice sliced through a bit of her bravado, but she mastered herself quickly.

“I’m getting there, Prince,” she replied coyly, turning her attention to the room as a whole. “If I was meant to follow through on this task, it couldn’t happen within the walls of the palace. There would be too many witnesses and too little possibility of an alibi. That made me wonder how to lure him here, in the security of the Keep, to best execute said task. The male ego is fascinating, especially one of a man in love, so it took very little talk of Tern’s inappropriate behavior to have the prince bloodthirsty.”

She turned toward Aedion to see that same look of approval. Emboldened by it, she continued with her reveal.

“Am I right, Aedion? Were you prepared to defend my honor when you arrived this morning?”

The prince made a show of looking almost sheepish, leaning defensive. He offered her a tense nod, and she rose from her seat to prop herself at the end of the table. “As noble as that may be, it brought you here, making my job that much easier.”

Arobynn, blessedly, took over her recount from there. “You see, our Lysandra has been on a mission these last months. Your cousin has created quite a stir with the lords of Terrasen, and they hired me and my men to gather intel on her movements. They’re not overly keen on the idea of relinquishing the shared governance to which they’ve grown accustomed. Had Aelin been thinking of her country rather than her selfishness, she would have accepted my hand. It would have secured her future as Queen.”

“And you would be King,” Aedion sneered, unruffled by the abuse he’d suffered at Arobynn’s hand.

Arobynn nodded, taking a couple of steps closer to Aedion. Lysandra resisted her urge to go after him. “But now, she’s betrothed to the King of Adarlan. While I can understand the appeal, her people fear the possibility of an empire. Adarlan isn’t a nation to scoff about, and their forces backing any agenda that Aelin could possibly dream is dangerous. The only ways around this would be her abdication or her untimely demise.” Aedion jerked against his restraints at the clear threat to his cousin, to no avail. “That won’t do will it?”

The prince only stared him down, unwilling to humor him with any kind of response. Arobynn paced back and forth as he continued. “Your years as part of the royal family have surely allowed a certain level of education around succession. Tell me, Prince, who would inherit the throne in the absence of an heir.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Aedion ground out, warning dripping from the words.

Arobynn’s patience had worn thin, indicated by the increased volume of his voice. “Who is next in the succession, Aedion?”

He looked at Arobynn with murder brewing in his turquoise eyes, that ring of gold glowing as bright as Lysandra had ever seen it. His reply came through gritted teeth. “Me.”

“Exactly. Which is why Lysandra was an obvious choice for the task at hand. If anyone could get close enough, it would be her considering the nature of your infatuation with her.”

Aedion’s eyes widened in horror as he turned them her way. Even knowing that he knew the truth, the pain worn all over his place gutted her.

“ _Lysandra_?” Aedion spat, as if the name disgusted him. Of all the times he’d said it to her, that was most definitely her least favorite. He dropped his voice as he addressed her, and she swore he’d never looked so earnest. This fa with them had been genuine for so long that she forgot how skilled he was undercover. “Olivia,” he pleaded, “tell me what’s going on. I don’t know what he’s said to you or what dream you’ve been sold, but—“

“Don’t,” she interrupted, partly to seem harsh but also because she couldn’t bear it. “I know this is a lot to take in, but Arobynn tells the truth. You’re an unfortunate complication that had to be eliminated. I must admit I regret that a little. You’re not all bad,” she taunted.

Aedion’s jaw ticked with anger, his throat bobbing as he steadied his voice. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. You’ve had plenty of opportunities. You would have done it.”

Lysandra hadn’t expected the clear hit at her credibility, but she supposed it would seem more suspicious if he didn’t question her. After all, he was meant to be a fool in love, someone she’d so clearly manipulated to her favor. She went immediately on the defensive.

“Maybe so, if I were impulsive and didn’t care for self-preservation. It would have been suicide to make an attempt on your life within the palace or around your court. I needed to draw you out, get you around my own before doing anything. What better explanation than you barreling into the Keep with your jealousy and your territorial male bullshit? Think of the PR nightmare with such behavior from a prince; Terrasen’s sweetheart, no less. They’d accept our claims of self-defense if only to keep it quiet,” she finished, praying to the gods that she hadn’t thrown any wrench in the plan.

She quickly decided that even if she did, it was on Aedion to wiggle his way out of it. If he wanted her on the same page so badly, he would have included her in the plan in the first place. Lysandra shook her head softly at the thoughts; valid as they were, they weren’t productive. She couldn’t afford to resent Aedion at that point.

“No!” Aedion bellowed, refusing to accept her words. As if remembering himself, he squeezed his eyes shut against the anger, and when he opened them, Lysandra had to breathe against the rawness of his emotions. “You’re lying, baby,” he said softly. “Would you just drop this? Please? Olivia, you told me you loved me. We have plans together.”

Realization hit her suddenly as the pieces of Aedion’s proverbial puzzle fell into place. It was his words, chosen artfully and intentionally to parallel their argument the night before, that finally made everything line up.

_Go on; I want to believe you._

_You’re lying, baby._

She hoped she wasn’t reading into the parallel too closely, but she had a hard time talking herself out of it.

_Do your worst, Lysandra. Tell me that I don’t matter to you; that you never cared about me. Make me believe that you manipulated my trust so blatantly, and I never saw it coming. Lie to me, baby._

So, this was what he’d wanted. For her to refuse him in front of everyone, to absolve her of any responsibility to keep her safe. As much as she could throttle him for it, she didn’t dare get off track so late in the charade. Her own words to him echoed through her brain, the final piece that made Aedion’s note make sense.

_I can’t. You know I can’t._

And the words from his godsdamned letter—

_Keep practicing. I love you._

Lysandra must have been quiet for a length of time. Aedion’s voice jolted her back to the present, urging her to meet him fully in their game.

“I brought you to Adarlan with my court. I’ve met your sister, for the gods’ sake. Was it really all part of this fucked up game you’re playing?”

She looked into his face once more to find it wrecked, his eyes brimming with tears. The sight was convincing enough to riddle her with guilt despite her having committed no grievances. She schooled her face into a mask of someone totally indifferent to his words.

“Aedion, stop all this. Seriously, you’ll embarrass yourself,” she admonished, steeling herself to be convincing enough with the ridiculous things she had to say out loud. “The truth is you meant nothing to me, not really.”

She glanced to Arobynn whose face was covered in feral delight at her taunting. When she looked back to Aedion, a tear rolled down his cheek, and she hated it. _Hated_ it. But as twisted as it was, she could do this for him.

“You saw what you wanted to see; what I wanted you to see. I did what I needed to do to earn your trust and gain access to Aelin.” She started down the stars, pacing her decent with her words. “You were a means to an end; a direct path to our goal as an organization. I honestly thought it would take longer to manipulate you so thoroughly considering your notorious cleverness, but you were blinded by the things I dared to show you.” She was right in front of him now, gripping his chin a jerking it upward roughly to look at her. His haunted expression nearly brought her to her knees. “Truthfully, you are my assignment and nothing more.”

Before the prince could respond to her painful monologue, an object, blurred by its sheer speed, flew mere centimeters from Aedion’s cheekbone. Both of them jumped at the loud thud on the wall behind him, and Lysandra snapped her gaze upward to assess what had flown so closely to Aedion’s head that several wisps of his blond hair now littered the forearm of her sweater. Her blood boiled when she saw the dagger embedded in the wall, and it took every single ounce of her self-control to turn slowly to determine which of her colleagues had so impetuously interfered with how she handled her charge.

Lysandra had never been so relieved to see Lorcan Salvaterre in all of her life.

—

He’d been perched casually at the very back, his ankles crossed with his boots atop the table. Once the room’s attention turned to him, he’d lowered his feet and wordlessly stood to meet Arobynn’s men who were already upon him. Lysandra wondered if her jaw was slack as she watched him make those trained men look like young children, effortlessly disarming them and moving to the next.

She’d only been vaguely aware of the code being called when men from various parts of the Keep flooded the conference room. Bile rose to her throat at the sheer numbers, and she knew she needed to make her way over to the dagger before anyone else. She wondered if that had been Lorcan’s intention all along, to make sure she was a armed before the chaos erupted.

That was where she found herself, dagger in hand and running back toward Aedion through the numerous agents engaged in combat around them. Lysandra was skilled, had trained in combat the better part of her life, but they were outnumbered. Lorcan was otherworldly, something entirely inhuman, but everyone had their limits. Her heart sank at the innocent people sprinkled through the Keep who may fall victim to the pandemonium she created. She had to figure out a way to evacuate them sooner rather than later.

As if summoned by Lysandra’s train of thoughts, the door nearest to the pit opened to reveal Aelin, Rowan’s form shadowing not far behind her. The princess was dressed for the brutality surrounding her, daggers in hand. She thought she could cry at seeing the blonde despite wanting to choke her only hours before.

“What are you—“

“No time for that, Lysandra. Here.” Aelin tossed another dagger her way, hilt first, from the small strap around her thigh. She caught it with ease. “It’s time we fought on the same side for once.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she would never give the woman the satisfaction of knowing it. She whirled for Aedion, kneeling to slice through the zip ties securing each of his ankles to the chair legs.

“You’re incredible,” he marveled at her, his eyes soft with emotion.

“Thanks,” she replied, grunting with the effort of slicing through the binds at his wrists. Aedion hissed at the sting of the ties, rubbing at his wrists with his large hands. “Now, go.”

Aedion’s eyes grew twice their size at her words, but she cut him off before he could argue. “I’m serious. Go to the front, find Arobynn’s assistant. Her name is Annie. She knows the Keep and can help you get everyone out safely.”

“Lys, I—“

“Don’t argue with me. Please.” Her voice broke on the word. “The risks are high enough. They need someone who can lead them out of here and keep them safe. You have the experience and the skill to do it, so I’m asking you.”

“I should be here to—“

“It’s an order, Ashryver,” Lorcan called from where he engaged with one of Arobynn’s men. Lysandra hadn’t know he was so close, nor that he could hear her words to Aedion, but she was thankful regardless. “Do what Ennar says. Find the assistant and evacuate the keep. Now.”

The prince ground his teeth at the order as if he meant to defy it. Lysandra took his face between her hands, careful not to aggravate his injuries, and tried to shake him out of his thoughts.

“Please,” she begged again. “I trusted you. I need you to return the favor.”

Aedion hissed a curse under his breath, his eyes closing slowly as he considered her words. Honor won out, and he tore himself away from her to head for the doors. He paused only long enough for Rowan to toss several weapons his way. She regretted the second his golden hair disappeared through the door, but it had been what she wanted.

Lysandra’s brain seemed to empty out as she joined the fray. She wondered if she would ever remember the men with whom she faced off, her body carrying her on autopilot as if not a day had passed since the last time she’d engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Rowan proved to be just as impressive as Lorcan, almost as if he was fueled by the altercations rather than drained by them. Aelin was nowhere in her periphery, but she knew the princess was alive and well since Rowan hadn’t made it his personal responsibility to rip the heads off of every one of Arobynn’s men.

The sound of bone crunching as she rammed the hilt of her dagger into her opponents face may have been the one thing with the potential to haunt her. The sound combined with the vacant look in the man’s eyes as he hit the ground brought her roughly to the present. She blinked when she realized no one else engaged her and allowed her eyes to scan the room to assess the damage.

Lorcan still faced off with two men, but he would best them in minutes, Lysandra guessed. Rowan was engaged with several men of his own, but his eyes still scanned the room every second he got in search of Aelin. That fact alone made Lysandra happy that Aedion wasn’t with them. She would have never been able to concentrate on the task at hand with him nearby.

Shaking her from her reverie was the deep timber of Rowan’s voice, yelling Aelin’s name from his place across the room from her. Lysandra whipped her head around in search of the princess to find what she assumed was Rowan’s worst nightmare. Aelin faced off with Arobynn Hamel himself.

Rowan’s warning had served its purpose in prompting Aelin to duck under the swing of another of Arobynn’s men behind her. The distraction cost her though, allowing Arobynn the opportunity to disarm her effortlessly with a cruel chuckle. Lysandra saw red as the other man grabbed Aelin by the arms, securing her in place before Arobynn. She moved to intervene, but any plan for freeing Aelin without risking either or both of them wouldn’t manifest. For the umpteenth time that day, Lysandra was winging it.

A loud thud to her left caught her attention, but she continued to move. In her periphery she saw a flash of silver hair keeping step with her toward Aelin, and she turned to him in hopes that he had a plan of his own. To her horror, he deferred to her, assuming she had any rhyme to her reason at all.

“I’ll cover you,” he assured her, and Lysandra was touched by the loyalty she heard in his voice. He’d only shown her indifference, maybe a little amusement at times, and she realized she’d dramatically underestimated his esteem for her.

How many times had she cautioned herself against feeling any sense of belonging to Aelin’s court? Only to realize maybe she’d belonged all along.

Newfound resolve washed over her, and she readied herself to do right by the people there with her. Fighting for Aelin, fighting for _her._

“I’ve got Arobynn. You take care of the man who has Aelin.”

Rowan barely grunted his agreement before his long stride inevitably pulled him away from her. Lysandra surveyed the scene. Arobynn had Aelin’s cheeks squeezed roughly between his fingers and his thumb, leaning closely to her face as he spewed whatever hate he’d landed on. His dagger was balanced across her throat, leaving Aelin motionless even if her face was as determined as ever.

With stealth seemingly incompatible with Rowan’s massive form, he’d successfully positioned himself behind Arobynn’s accomplice, his own dagger posed over the man’s throat. A wolffish grin spread across Arobynn’s face at the realization.

“Why am I not surprised to see Rowan Whitethorn playing the part of your hero, Aelin? I wonder how he’s managed with the news of your engagement. Perhaps he hopes being your saving grace will win your good favor after all,” he taunted.

Aelin’s lips curled into a sneer, but Lysandra took her place behind Arobynn before she could respond. The man behind the princess gawked at her, so she supposed any anonymity she’d hoped for was out the window.

“On your knees, Arobynn. And drop the knife.”

Her boss laughed at the realization of who now held a knife to his own throat, and Lysandra felt the vibrations of it through the hilt of the blade. He complied with neither of her demands. Her heart hammered in her chest at the boldness of her actions, but it seemed she’d finally hit her threshold of Arobynn’s control and manipulation.

“I said on your knees, Arobynn.”

That time, she didn’t give him the opportunity to defy her. The heel of her boot made rough contact with the inside of his knee, and unlike Lorcan earlier that morning, Arobynn crumpled. He landed roughly against the tile, barking a curse at the pain that radiated through his knees. Lysandra lowered herself with him, her blade still pressed against his throat. He recovered with his dagger still in hand.

“What is this, Lysandra? Are you making a statement now? You want everyone here to know how you made me kneel for you, bent me to your will?”

“No,” she breathed, panic rising in her throat as Arobynn poised his dagger to strike. She didn’t know whether he aimed for Aelin’s inner thigh or her, but she didn’t give the time to find out. “I only care that you bowed for the Queen of Terrasen.”

Her blade sliced true, and the only sound that followed was the splattering of Arobynn’s blood against the tile.


End file.
